Phoenix Rising Repost
by dreamer9981
Summary: A young commoner with the Gift finds herself embroiled in earth-shattering events, and her choices will affect the very future of Tortall. Re-post.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: For those of you that are wondering, 'why the hell is she posting this story again?' I'm here to answer those questions. I've spent the past few weeks going through and editing Phoenix Rising. That means no more continuity errors, _hopefully_ no more spelling and grammar errors, and basically, particularly in the earlier chapters, better writing. Nothing about the plot and the characters has changed, but the story looks and reads better now. 

For those of you who _haven't_ read Phoenix Rising yet, this is my baby. Its complete, and I will be posting a chapter every week. There are 14 altogether, so I've got a ways to go. I hope you enjoy the story, and please leave me feedback, I truly appreciate it. 

**

Prologue

**

They were coming. She could feel it in every inch of her body, from the hair rising on the back of her grimy neck to the marrow of her bones. She could hear their taunting calls from outside the tiny closet she crouched in, mocking her attempts at escape. Determinedly, she blocked out their rough voices as they told her exactly what they were planning on doing to her when they finally caught her. She could still see their faces, blackened with dirt to conceal their identities, twisted into visages of intense delight as they raped the women of the castle. Their sounds of pleasure derived from the torture, rape, and death they delivered. The scent of drying blood that flowed from the veins of their victims. The horror and pain on the faces of the men who were forced to watch the mayhem before they too were killed. She had seen it all. 

She couldn't think about that. She had to concentrate on remaining hidden. It was her only chance at survival. From deep inside, she called forth hidden wellsprings of magic and constructed a rudimentary shield across the door to the linen closet. As always, the magic felt as if it were oozing from the bottom of a deep well, until it pooled into her tangible grasp. It took every inch of her concentration to craft the webs of power across the door. For the first time, it was almost easy to call upon the magic, with the sharp prick of fear spurring her ever onward. She didn't dare relax until the door was covered in glowing blue light. It was too late to wish for more magical knowledge. 

The waiting was the worst part. The crushing weight of fear, the sharp edge of panic, and the all-consuming knowledge that she was probably going to die closed in around her, far more constricting than the close walls of the closet. 

When the soldiers finally arrived and began banging at the door, screaming for her to let them in, it was almost a relief. Every muscle in her body was stiff and tense as she reached into the well again and dragged out a strand of blue fire. 

The door blasted open with a crash and splinters of wood flew everywhere, lodging into almost every available surface of her skin. She ignored the rivers of fire awash over her body, closed her eyes tightly, and thrust out her magic. 

Again. And again. Those hands would never touch her. 

In the back of her mind, an unfamiliar, inhuman voice screamed in rage. 

_You will pay. How do you feel now? Does it hurt you as much as it hurt them? Does it hurt you? It had better hurt._

It took her several minutes to realize that there were no more men trying to pry her from the room, no more hands grappling for purchase against her body. When she had worked up the nerve to slit open her eyes and look at the damage, she immediately closed them and let out an involuntary, sickened moan. It took an act of extreme will to order her heaving stomach to maintain its contents. 

Blackened and charred bodies lay in a gruesome pile in the corridor outside the linen closet and all the way in, ending in a semi-circle around her. Surprise, fury, and agonizing pain could be seen on the faces of those who still possessed recognizable features. Every weapon had been melted and lay in silvery, molten puddles. The air itself was filled with the stench of burning flesh, and crackled from the power that had so recently flown through it. It tasted of metal and blood. None of the men moved. 

She couldn't think about them. Not yet. 

She considered, briefly, seeking shelter in the village, and immediately decided against the idea. The wall of bodies was a formidable influence. And what if more men were on their way? What if the villagers blamed her for the massacre? 

Distant voices immediately sent her mind into panic mode. Again. Reaching deeply inside, she knew before she mentally saw that only a tiny spark of her normally plentiful blue fire remained. 

The voices drew nearer. Now the sound of armor clinking together and the scrape of booted heals on the ground became apparent. Numerous feet landed at exactly the same time as they marched, which spoke of organization and authority. There was no talking, not even a whisper, and certainly no threats. The silence was absolute. 

Never did the thought occur to her that the men were friendly. All she could see was the vicious faces of the men she had killed. Light burst into the hallway, and murmurs of disgust and fear abounded, before they were quieted by a stern order. A single soldier walked the rest of the way down the hall, moving between the piled bodies, until he stopped in front of the entrance to the closet, unceremoniously kicking a dead soldier out of the way. He was tall, with command written in every line of his body. His face was calm, as befit a warrior, but not hard and emotionless. There was sympathy in his eyes as he regarded her. She wondered what he was thinking about her, dirty and covered in blood, cowering in the back of a closet. 

She wondered if he was going to kill her. 

There was a pause that lasted an eternity, and then the man said quietly to his waiting men, "You can stand down, there's nothing to worry about." Then, he stepped carefully into the closet and knelt down in front of her, his regard gentle and patient, before saying to her, "Don't worry now, little lass. You're safe. We're with the King's Own." 

His words took several minutes to sink into her mind, and then she lost what little composure she had left from the trials of the day. Bitter tears dripped in trails down her dirty face, and sobs wracked her shoulders. With surprising grace for his size, the man moved over to her and cradled her in his arms, murmuring soothing words of nonsense. Gradually he gathered her into his arms and moved out of the closet and into the hallway, silencing all questions from his waiting men with a curt nod of his head. The troops knew better than to ignore his orders; they had been through too much with their commander to doubt him. 

They all stared at the sobbing girl in wonder and respect, not knowing if she had caused the disaster outside the closet, but knowing that she had witnessed events worse than many of them had ever dreamed of. The man holding her looked at her with gentle eyes, and murmured softly, "What will become of you now, little one?" 

She didn't respond. She simply burrowed her face deeper into his shoulder as relief coursed through her veins. 


	2. Arrival

Author's Note: Sorry about not updating this story like I planned. My computer died for a while and I couldn't open up microsoft word at all. Its always something with me. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter. I'll try to get into a once-a-week update schedule. As always, I appreciate feedback, positive or negative. Chapter One: Arrival 

Autumn, 

in the 25th year of the reign 

of 

Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 

464 

Caelin of Harowyn pulled up her bay mare and surveyed the sight unfolding in front of her with a mixture of wonder and fear. The city of Corus stretched as far as the eye could see, a mass of brilliant colors and sounds. From the tempting call of a merchant advertising his wears to the scolding of a mother for her rambunctious sons, the cacophony of sound was completely foreign to Caelin's ears. In the far distance, she could make out the tall spires of the palace, home to King Jonathan IV, Queen Thayet, and the center of the Kingdom of Tortall. 

"Pretty impressive, isn't it?" Caelin had been so entranced by the commanding view the hill offered that she hadn't noticed the second horse standing next to her own mare. Domitan of Masbolle, the commander of the Fourth Company of the King's Own, also known as Dom to his friends, offered an encouraging smile to Caelin that only helped accent his handsome features. "I felt the same way when I first saw it; don't worry, you'll get used to it soon enough. Before you know it, it'll become home." 

Caelin smiled shyly in return, knowing Dom was doing his best to cheer her up, and replied, "It's a lot bigger than I thought it would be." That had to be one of the largest understatements Caelin had ever uttered. For someone that had never been beyond the small village in Fief Harowyn until three weeks ago, Corus was a place far beyond anything she had ever imagined. 

Thoughts of her home brought back terrifying memories that Caelin promptly stuffed to the back of her mind. She was becoming an expert at doing so. The rest of the Fourth Company pulled up behind Caelin and Dom gradually, and she let their cheerful chatter wipe away those thoughts. The men talked of their plans for when they arrived at the city and the slew of balls and other social events that would be taking place as autumn proceeded on. 

Dom let them chatter for a few minutes longer and enjoy the view before he raised a hand and stopped the talk. Caelin pushed back a strand of blond hair from her face and admired the man standing next to her. Dom had dark hair that fell slightly below his ears, a friendly, handsome face, and large frame. He sat on his gray gelding with an ease that spoke of many years in the saddle. When he spoke, every man gave Dom his undivided attention, despite the fact that their leader was only in his mid to late twenties, younger than some of the men he commanded. Caelin had learned during their travels that Dom had once been a sergeant in the Third Company of the King's Own, under Lord Raoul of Goldenlake. Because of his service and brave actions during the Scanran War, of which Caelin admittedly knew almost nothing, he had been given command of the Fourth. He was the youngest commander in the history of the King's Own. 

"Well. We're finally here. It's certainly been an interesting and educational trip." Though his words were joking, Caelin knew that he never treated any of his missions as jokes. "You deserve this break. I expect you to behave honorably and stay out of trouble for as long as we're on leave. Don't get into trouble, don't pester any city women that don't want to be pestered, report for duty whenever I ask you to, and stay in shape. You know as well as I do that even our breaks aren't always breaks. And do try to have a little fun before we're sent out again. But if any of you plan on squandering all your pay on drinking and gambling, don't expect a sympathetic ear when you come back. Dismissed." 

The men let out a spontaneous shout of excitement, and most spurred their horses down the hill, onto the road, and into the city. Caelin and Dom watched them go until the last had disappeared into the mass of color that was Corus. Finally, Dom turned towards her and shook his head. "They never seem to remember that they'll be on duty most of the time we're here. Oh to be young again-I know all too well how much work we'll be doing here. Are you ready to go down, Cae?" 

Caelin grimaced at the nickname Dom and all the men had unceremoniously granted her and nodded affirmatively in answer to his question. She let her mare fall in behind Dom's gray as he led the way to the city path, content to follow Dom's lead. She had never been on a horse before she met Dom, since only nobles and soldiers rode horses in Harowyn, and she still wasn't entirely comfortable with the whole process. 

Anvil, Dom's gelding, kept up a lively pace as they reached the outskirts of the city and began weaving their way through the crowd. Caelin could barely keep herself from gawking at the sights surrounding her, but she was determined to avoid attracting attention. Of course, it was hard to avoid being noticed when they were almost the only people on the streets riding horses. Anvil and Kerry, Caelin's mare, were fine animals, and Dom's uniform attracted even more attention. Children pointed at Dom and voiced their desire to become soldiers just like him; many picked up sticks and began playing swordsmen with each other. 

Dom ignored the pleas from merchants to sample their products, though he was tempted to stop at a particularly fine blacksmith shop that had dozens of weapons to choose from. After eying a broadsword, he continued to weave his way through women carrying baskets, children running to and fro, and dogs and cats wandering the streets in search of their next meal. His path led them ever closer to the palace, until finally they came to the main gate and were stopped by soldiers wearing the livery of the palace guard. Dom explained why they were coming to the palace, and once his story was checked, they were both let through. 

Dom's first stop was the royal stable, a building almost as large as the Harowyn castle. He took Caelin to the section reserved for horses of the King's Own and helped her stable Kerry. As they were finishing up, a short man with pale blond hair and blue eyes came over to greet Dom. "So ye're back then. How're the beasts? Any injured?" Although his voice was quiet and he seemed unconcerned, Caelin got the sense that he would be deeply upset if any of his horses were hurt. 

"Fortunately, Stefan, none of the horses were hurt, although we lost Hammin a few weeks in. Caelin here has been learning to ride on Kerry, his old mount." 

Stefan turned his gaze to Caelin and looked her over, his eyes wise and gentle. "Kerry been treating you well, then?" He wanted to know, stroking the bay mare's nose with a soft, experienced hand. 

"Oh yes," she replied, feeling at ease with the man. "She's very nice, and patient. I'm afraid I've been a trial for her, but she puts up with me." 

"And she should. I've raised this little lass since she was just a wee bit. Any time you want to ride, just ask for Stefan." 

"Thank you," she said gratefully, giving Kerry a last pat for the time being. Dom said goodbye to Stefan and led Caelin out of the stable and up to the palace. Caelin kept her eyes firmly on her feet and only looked up when Dom greeted someone. Her stomach was hopelessly knotted with worry as they entered the main palace. Instead of going to his rooms, Dom led her through a twisting maze of hallways until she was thoroughly and completely lost. The outside of the palace didn't give justice to exactly how huge it was on the inside. She had never thought so many halls and rooms could be contained in one building. Finally Dom paused at a door and knocked briskly. 

After a long wait, loud crashes, and several muttered curses the door swung open to reveal an exceedingly tall man with jet black hair that just touched his shoulders, a long nose, and an imposing presence. "How many times have I told you not to disturb me when I'm working? Is that too much to ask? Just a few hours of peace and quiet would be appreciated, especially when a mistake could blow the whole blasted palace apart!" The man paused for a breath and looked at his guests for the first time. Recognition dawned, and a charming smile replaced the previous scowl as he waved them into the rooms with a long fingered hand. "Welcome Dom. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. I've been interrupted by servants or people that desperately need my opinion on something or another every ten minutes for the past three hours, and it's wearing a bit thin." Caelin could hardly believe the complete roundabout in personality the man had pulled. 

Dom grinned cheerfully at Caelin and entered the room, motioning for her to follow. "We had a stretch of good weather and rode hard so we'd get here a day early. We didn't mess up any important spells, did we?" 

"Nothing that can't be fixed quickly-I just lost my temper. Daine would be scolding me if she were here, so I ask you not to tell her I was cursing. She's trying to cure me of all the bad habits I've picked up, but so far none of her lecturing has sunk in." He paused and looked at Caelin, studying her with inquisitive eyes before saying gallantly, "And I am being unaccountably rude to not introduce my name. I am Numair Salmalin, and you are?" 

Caelin blinked, never more aware of her shabby clothes and commoner's status, as well as terrified of offending the man in front of her. Numair Salmalin was the most powerful mage in Tortall, and some said the world. It was rumored that he had once turned an opposing mage into a tree, and he had been one of the deciding factors of the Immortals War. Caelin could barely believe that she was meeting someone who was already a legend before he was dead. "My name is Caelin of Harowyn, my Lord." 

"Please, Numair is enough. It is a pleasure to meet you, Caelin, a pleasure indeed." His sharp eyes studied her critically, but he didn't allow his perusal to affect his manners. "Sit, please, both of you." 

Dom and Caelin sat in the proffered chairs, and Caelin observed quietly as Numair made tea and chatted with Dom. The tea was just ready when the door to the rooms swung open and Caelin was greeted with yet another extraordinary sight. A young woman with curly brown hair and blue-gray eyes walked into the room, followed by what looked like a huge, colorful lizard. The woman was covered in bird droppings and cradled some type of large bird in her arms. When she saw who Numair's company was, she smiled with delight. "Dom, what a surprise! We weren't expecting you until tomorrow. How was the trip into Corus?" 

As Dom and the woman became acquainted, Caelin guessed that she was Numair's wife. Even though she was much younger than he was, in Harowyn, such pairings were commonplace. She didn't realize the woman had noticed her until she said in a pleasant voice, "I must be a sight to behold to the uninitiated, hmm? My name is Veralidaine Sarrasri, but you can call me Daine. You must be Caelin. We've been expecting you." 

Caelin glanced sharply at Dom, wondering why he hadn't mentioned that, but then the woman's words sunk in. Daine, known throughout Tortall as the Wildmage, was just as well known as Numair, her lover. She had the ability to talk to any animal, heal them, and some said, even shape shift into the animal of her choice. She was the caretaker of the only dragon in the mortal realms, and she had been the deciding factor in the Immortals War, using animals and immortals to gain the upper hand, and some said, even communing with the gods. She had proved her usefulness again in the Scanran war, when her animal spies kept the Tortallans one step ahead of their enemies. 

Caelin gulped, wondering if Daine could read her thoughts with those big eyes of hers. She trembled a little at the realization of the company she kept, and couldn't decide how to respond. Her silence and shaking alerted Daine to trouble, and before Caelin knew it, she had rushed over and was placing a mug of tea in one hand and throwing a blanket over her shoulders. "Dom, I suppose you've been driving her into the ground without a thought that she isn't as used to heavy riding as your men, right? She's probably sick and exhausted, and now you're subjecting her to Numair and I, when she should be sleeping? We're a big enough shock to somebody who's expecting us. I thought you had more sense that that." 

"It's not that, Lady," Caelin gasped out, not wanting Daine to get the wrong impression of Dom. "Please, he took very good care of me." 

"Of course he did," Numair reassured her, a friendly grin spreading across his face. "Dear, go take care of your friend there, change into some decent clothes, and then we can talk." He sent Daine into one of the inner rooms with a gentle kiss to her cheek, and then a swat to her behind. 

Caelin hid a giggle and contented herself with listening to Dom and Numair discuss what had been happening in Corus in the two years he'd been out and about the kingdom on duty. That most of the stories were amusing anecdotes designed to make her laugh escaped her notice. Her favorite story was one where the king had a dream the palace was under attack and ran into the hallway wearing nothing but his sword. Caelin could hardly believe that someone as dignified as the king would do something so silly. 

Daine returned wearing breeches, soft leather boots, and a blue shirt, but she was still followed by the colorful lizard that had to be her dragon, Kitten. In her arms she cradled the bird she'd been carrying earlier, but he looked much more alert and healthy. Daine let him go and he immediately flapped over to a desk close to Caelin. She stifled a gasp, not wanting to show Daine that she was scared of the vicious looking bird, and nervously turned her attention back to her hosts. 

"All right then. As Daine said, Caelin, Dom contacted me not long after the events at Harowyn and told me a little about what happened there." Caelin gulped and tried to push back the irrational panic that consumed her when she thought about her home. Numair fiddled with a lock of his ink-black hair and looked at Caelin in concern. "However, I'm not going to ask you about what happened there. Dom has already passed on your testimony, so there's no need to make you re-live the details." 

"We just want to find out more about you-specifically, your magic. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to, but we'll be able to help you more easily if you talk to us." Daine's voice was calm and gentle, as if she were speaking to a frightened animal. Caelin met Daine's bluish eyes with her own pale blue eyes and decided that Daine, at least, was worth trusting. 

Hesitantly she began. "I was born in Harowyn to a serving girl at the village tavern and a traveling merchant. He left the village soon after and didn't bother taking my mother. She died a few days after birthing me, but she made the tavern owner promise to take care of me until I could fend for myself. He swore by Mithros that he'd take care of me, and he did, until I was six. Then he sent me to Lady Seldina and her daughters. They taught me to read, write, and do some figuring, and sometimes Lady Seldina even let me read the books from her library. That's how I learned how to make shields with my head." 

Sweat broke out on her forehead and Caelin wiped it away with a nervous gesture. "I've always been able to do things, things no one else could, but the tavern owner said it was a curse and told me he'd beat me if he ever saw me use it. I guess I have the Gift-that's what the books said it was, but I never read much about it. Lady Seldina didn't like magic either, and she wouldn't have let me keep reading if she knew I was fussing with it. I can light candles and do shields, but that's it, I swear. May the Goddess strike me if I lie. I don't know how I did what I did that night. It just happened!" Her voice was trembling by then, and she could see like they were right in front of her the faces of the men she'd killed. Staring at her, wondering how a slip of a girl could have killed them. 

She looked up, and could see the disgust plainly written on Daine and Numair's faces. Even Dom was openly staring at her. They were just like everybody at Harowyn. Once they knew about her magic, they would despise her. "Caelin, don't look at us like that. We don't think anything is wrong with you. How could we, when we're both filled with magic up to our necks too?" Numair spoke calmly and without blame. "But I do need to ask something from you. I need to determine just how much magic you have, and what kind it is. It sounds like you have the Gift, but you never know. Will you let me look?" 

Caelin shrugged and nodded her head affirmatively. Numair reached over with a large hand and took her much smaller hand in his own. To Caelin it felt as if someone was probing ever so carefully in her head with delicate fingers. They searched everywhere, leaving nothing to chance. A lifetime later, Numair opened his eyes and shook his head lightly. "Well then. That was very informative. Dom, if you don't mind, I'm going to ask that Caelin stay with us for the moment. I need to place some shields, for her own protection, and she can stay in our extra bedroom for the night. Besides, don't you need to report to Raoul?" 

Dom blushed in chagrin and then nodded cheerfully. "Oh yes, reporting. Duty. How could I forget? He's probably waiting for me now." He turned to face Caelin and said, "Daine and Numair will take good care of you. You aren't mad at me for leaving, are you?" 

"I'm not mad. Will I see you again?" 

"Of course. Tomorrow, actually. Don't worry. Everything will work out." 

With a last jaunty nod to Daine and Numair, Dom stood up from his chair and exited the room, hands in his pockets and whistling a marching tune. Once the door was tightly closed again, Numair regarded her solemnly. "Caelin, this may come as a surprise to you, but you have an extraordinarily strong Gift. In someone as untrained as you are, this could be a disaster if you're frightened or upset, as I'm sure you know. You need training, and you need it now, but I'm afraid I can't act until after tomorrow in one way or another. To prevent an accident, I need to put shields on you so that you can't tap into your magic and hurt somebody by accident. Do you trust me enough to do that? I won't do anything without your consent." 

The thought of hurting anyone else made her stomach heave. "Do whatever you need to. I don't want to hurt anyone else." 

"Excellent. This will only take a few minutes-ask Daine. I did something similar for her once, and she'd still here in one piece." Daine nodded in agreement, and once again that second presence came into her mind. This time, it felt as if barriers were erected around something unknown deep in the center of her being. A spark that could have been ignited at any time was dimmed down, and an intense strain on Caelin's mind that she hadn't even realized was there suddenly eased. Caelin gasped and looked around. Nothing had changed, but she didn't feel like she was hanging off the edge of a cliff anymore. 

"That's better, isn't it? Now you won't be able to use your magic until I, or someone with a strong Gift, takes the shields off. I'm afraid that I do have one more piece of shocking news. Because you were involved in the death of ten men, the King has called for a public trial. People are asking questions, wondering how a commoner was able to survive when the rest of the castle inhabitants, including the Harowyn nobles, were murdered. Some think you're a devil that should be killed. Others think you're a traitor and part of a plot to destroy all the Tortallan nobles. I'm not telling you this to scare you, just to prepare you for what will happen tomorrow. Rumors can be wild at the palace, but nobody in a position of power will be jumping to any conclusions. All you have to do is tell the court exactly what happened the day of the invasion. You can't leave any details out, because the court will also question Dom and the other witnesses. You should be cleared by tomorrow." 

The thought of giving testimony in front of a large crowd of people, having to admit to the atrocities she had committed, made the tea and cookie she'd just eaten rumble disturbingly in her stomach. "Whom will I be speaking in front of?" she asked hesitantly, hoping that she would only have to speak in front of the city court. 

"The trial is to be held publicly in the royal courtroom, as Panen of Harowyn was a loyal servant to the crown and his family well-liked. King Jonathan and Queen Thayet will be there, although they do not have an active position in the trial. Duke Turomot will preside, but as you should know, the way trials are carried out changed last year. Now, one commoner, one merchant or craftsmen, one noble, and a representative to the crown will serve on a panel. Ultimately, they will decide if you are innocent or guilty. Of course, all the nobles at court will be watching, as is their right." 

With each word Numair said, Caelin's heart sank a little lower until it took up residence in her stomach. There was no way she would be able to speak in front of all the kingdom's nobles, much less the king and queen! She would probably throw up in front of the assembled court. "I can't do it. I'll drown myself in a horse trough before I go in front of the court," she snapped, forgetting that she was speaking to mages and powerful members of court themselves. "They'll never believe anything I say anyway, so what's the point? It'll save everyone time if I just disappear." 

"Yes, but will you be able to forgive yourself if you never try and master your magic? Even though the shields will last, you'll always feel as if something vital is missing inside of you. And you give up the opportunity to make a difference with your magic. You never know when your unique skills will be the difference in saving somebody's life. Can you live your life like that?" 

Numair's words had exactly the effect on Caelin he wished. She scowled fiercely at him, but in the end, she agreed to go to the trial. Once he'd received her agreement, Numair stood up, stretched his long legs, and went to go take care of some unknown business, leaving Caelin inside the room with Daine. 

"I didn't want to learn to use my magic at one point either, you know," she said after a long, uncomfortable silence, in which Caelin nervously picked at her fingers. "I lost my family when I was a little younger than you, so I know what it's like to be alone. People thought I was crazy, and they even tried to kill me. I didn't think I would ever want to use magic again. But Numair's right. You can't ignore something that's a part of you without living a lie. And you never know what the magic will bring you-I was just a poor bastard from a tiny town, and now I'm living in court. Perhaps magic will be kind to you as well." 

Caelin was about to respond to Daine's astonishing story when something from behind grabbed her ear gently. She yelped in surprise and turned around to find the bird staring at her with mischievous eyes. He was a handsome fellow, larger than most hawks with golden feathers and dark brown eyes flecked with gold. Looking down, Caelin noticed that his claws were silver. Suddenly, she realized that this bird was no ordinary hawk. Slowly she backed away, not wanting to antagonize the creature. 

"That's enough out of you, sir. She doesn't have anything to eat either, so pecking her won't get you anywhere." Looking at Caelin, Daine shrugged in amusement. "This is Baron. I became acquainted with him when a hunter decided his feathers would fetch a pretty price on the market, despite the royal ban on hunting immortals. I healed his leg while Numair was busy embarrassing the king." 

Caelin looking at the bird in complete fascination, and he regarded her with just as much interest. When a few moments had passed, he clicked his beak in annoyance and hopped onto her lap, startling a squeak of surprise out of her. Daine giggled and said, "I guess he wants you to pet him. Stroke the top of his head and the soft feathers under his chin. He likes that." 

As Caelin complied, she asked, "What is he? He's definitely not normal." 

"He's a phoenix. They're very rare; they mate once and only hatch one chick, so there aren't many of them around, unlike spidrens, which nest every year and produce hundreds of young in their lifetime. Phoenixes are very intelligent immortals, smarter than some humans, but usually friendly. They only fight humans to protect themselves or their family. Baron here is a young male, just fledged and out on his own. He's a bit embarrassed to have been hit by a human hunter, but he says you are very good at scratching." 

Caelin laughed and continued to pet the delighted phoenix, who was now humming in rapture. "Can you really talk to them? I mean, animals and immortals? I heard you could even turn into them." 

"Yes. I have wild magic, from my da's side of the family. Believe me, sometimes being able to talk to animals is a chore. They chatter worse than some humans," Daine said with a laugh. Now that Caelin had relaxed some, she noticed that there were assorted animals in the room, from strange looking birds to cats and dogs to animals that Caelin had never even heard of. Kitten clamored into Daine's lap and whistled and squeaked animatedly. 

After a while, Daine put her down and stretched. "It's pretty late. Would you like to go eat with the other youngsters, or should I bring something to eat up here?" 

Caelin looked at the quiet room and the colorful phoenix in her lap and said, "If it's not too much trouble, could I eat up here?" 

Daine nodded her approval and left. Several minutes later she returned with two trays filled with bread, part of a roast on one, vegetables, juice, pie, and a bowl of raw meat. When Baron saw the meat, he let out a squawk and hopped over to Daine, who proceeded to stuff his face with the bloody meat without a qualm. Caelin resolutely ignored the phoenix's feast and turned to her own food. The tantalizing smell showed Caelin just how hungry she was, and she dug in with gusto. 

The food was of a far higher quality than any she had ever tried before-she ate every last morsel on her plate, only feeling filled up by the last bite of pie. Caelin was now completely satisfied, and when she looked over at Daine, laughed. Baron too had eaten his fill, and was now asleep on Daine's lap, making a whistling sound every time his feathered chest rose and fell. Watching the bird sleep drew a yawn from Caelin, and she realized that she was exhausted from the day, even though it was still bright outside. 

Daine took one look at Caelin's face and put Baron onto a perch in the corner of the room. Then she came over and led Caelin to a small chamber to the right of the main room. Ignoring Caelin's protests, she helped her undress and put on some of Daine's own sleeping clothes, which fit almost exactly. "Of course you're tired, from the ride here and Numair playing around with your magic. You've got a big day tomorrow. You'd best get some sleep while you can. Goddess bless, Caelin." 

Caelin murmured the blessing back and closed her eyes. The bed beneath her was deliciously soft, and she was having a hard time remaining awake. Even the mention of tomorrow's trial couldn't keep her awake, and after a few minutes, she fell into a deep sleep. 


	3. The Trial

Author's Note: Because I had such a long wait before the last chapter, here are two more to make up for it. Please leave a review if you are so inclined. 

**Chapter Two: The Trial**

"I'm not sure why you're bothering. I'm going to look horrible no matter what you do. It's impossible to make a commoner like me look pretty enough for the king's court. Worry about yourself." 

"The only person who I care to impress barely pays attention to looks, and you are being unreasonable. Who gave you the impression that you're ugly? I see otherwise." 

Caelin shrugged and fiddled with the dress Daine had loaned her, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It was a plain, form fitting dress, dark blue, with no decorations except for a sash around the waste. Still, it was the nicest garment Caelin had ever worn. The fabric was soft and gentle against her skin, unlike the harsh burlap dresses she'd worn in the tavern or the handed down servant uniforms she had been provided with at the fief. It was a luxury she was unused to, and she had to firmly tell herself not to get accustomed to it. Daine finished brushing Caelin's hair and steered her towards a mirror. "Go ahead, take a look and see what I mean." 

When Caelin looked into the mirror, she hissed in surprise. Maybe it was the fine quality of the glass, or Daine's work on her hair, but the girl she saw in the mirror was someone she'd never seen before. A girl with long, thick blond hair that fell in waves and bright blue eyes stared back at her in complete shock. Her face, without its customary layer of dirt and grime, was paler than she had previously thought, a legacy of living practically on top of the Scanran border. Her nose was small and slightly upturned, and her lips were opened in a surprised O. The new dress accented a figure that had been hidden for years behind baggy, unflattering dresses. 

"I don't believe this. I'm almost as pretty as Lariss, the blacksmith's daughter, and she's the prettiest girl in all of Harowyn! Did you witch me?" She added suspiciously as an afterthought. 

Daine laughed loudly, apparently pleased with her work. "Of course not, you just clean up very well. You aren't as beautiful as some of the ladies at court, like Queen Thayet, Princess Shinkokami, or some of the others, but you have your own brand of beauty. All the pages and squires will be lining up to speak to you." 

"Me?" Caelin laughed mockingly, shaking her head. "A commoner? I don't think so. You don't understand. Now that you have royal favor, I'm sure everyone treats you politely because they're too scared to do anything else, but I know nobles. They don't care anything about people they see as beneath them. At least, all the nobles in Harowyn and the ones that came to visit acted that way." Caelin could well remember being treated as if she were something smelly that should be avoided at all costs by arrogant lords and ladies. 

Daine's mouth twisted into a frown, but she didn't refute Caelin's point, either. She looked as if she were about to reply when Baron, who was perched on the windowsill, squawked loudly, drawing a surprised laugh from Daine. "He says as humans go, he thinks you're very pretty," she explained. Caelin wandered over and stroked Baron's head gently. She had become very fond of the beautiful phoenix in the short time she had known him, and would be sad when their inevitable parting came. After a moment, Daine sighed and said, "Well, there's no use putting this off. Are you ready to go?" 

A resounding 'NO' would have been Caelin's preferred answer, but she didn't see how that would make the situation any better. She simply nodded and gave Baron one last stroke before following Daine out of her suite and into the hallway. Daine led her through yet another maze until they came to an ornate oak door that was flanked by stern guards on either side. Daine squeezed Caelin's shoulder in a gesture of encouragement before pushing open the door and revealing the royal courtroom. 

Caelin's eyes flickered in every direction as she took in the nobles with their elaborate costumes, the ancient magistrate sitting imposingly at his desk, the panel lined up at their table, and Dom and the rest of the soldiers that would be speaking as witnesses and delivering written testimonies from Harowyn villagers. Finally, her gaze focused on the monarchs, sitting regally upon their thrones on the raised dais. They were dressed simply compared to most of their subjects, yet they were more impressive than all the others put together. Jonathan was the handsomest man she had ever seen, just as Thayet was the most beautiful woman she had ever encountered. Simple golden crowns were their only sign of status, yet their identities could never be mistaken, even if they were dressed as the lowliest of commoners. She could feel their eyes, along with the eyes of the entire court, watching her intently as Daine led her over to the other witnesses. Her vision swirled and she swayed on her feet, glad for the firm arm one of the soldiers offered in support when she arrived. Once she was settled, Duke Turomot stood up and called for the court's attention. 

After going through the opening rituals, in which he asked Mithros for fairness and honesty to guide the proceedings and announced the members serving on the panel, he called, "I would now like Domitan of Masbolle to come to the stand." Once Dom had reached the platform, the duke said solemnly, "You are now speaking in front of your kingdom and the gods. Speak truthfully or face their wrath." 

Following Dom's promise to speak the complete truth, Turomot began to question him. He was startlingly concerned with specifics, from what mission he'd been on at the time to what the closet had looked like when he found Caelin, the weather of the day, and how many bodies he found in the castle. It was almost as if he was hoping for Dom to make a mistake. Dom, however, remained cool and calm during the testimony, his presence a rock of support and a model for Caelin, who would soon be facing the same demanding questions. Finally, Turomot reluctantly concluded his examination and called another soldier to the stand to deliver the testimonies of the Harowyn villagers. Following his recital, the rest of the men were called up, one by one, to confirm Dom's story. The questioning seemed to go on for ages, and Caelin noted with amusement that King Jonathan was trying to cover up a yawn with his hand. 

To keep from worrying about the upcoming questioning, Caelin studied the four members of the panel. The first man was a solidly built farmer with graying hair but muscles that were still strong. He was watching the proceedings almost as intently as Duke Turomot himself. The second was a young woman with a kind and intelligent face who appeared to be some kind of a shopkeeper. Instead of watching the faces of those being questioned, she was taking notes down on a sheet of paper. Caelin wondered what her notes were about and hoped they were favorable. 

The third member of the Panel was a noble, Duke Baird of Queenscove. He was the chief of the realm's healers, and from what Caelin had heard of him, he was an honest and fair man who took his duty seriously. However, it was the fourth and final member of the panel that Caelin was most interested in: the member who represented the royal family. 

Even before he had been announced, Caelin somehow knew that he was one of the royal princes. Despite the coal black hair and sapphire eyes, Prince Roald shared the same charismatic spark that was in his father, the king. It wasn't of the same magnitude, of course; those things came with time. Still, Caelin could see the makings of the future king from the intelligent gleam in the prince's eyes. 

"Thank you, soldier Rhyss. I now ask Caelin of Harowyn to come to the stand." 

Duke Turomot's words sent a ripple of murmurs through the crowd as Caelin slowly navigated around the soldiers of the King's Own and walked over to the slightly raised platform. The feel of the concentrated attention of the crowd was like needles pricking her skin. She wondered what they were thinking. Did they really believe that she had been a part of the slaughter of so many innocent people? It seemed impossible that anyone could think she had done it all on her own until she remembered with sickening clarity the many men she had killed in the closet. Caelin hardly remembered swearing to speak the truth because she was shaking so hard. She felt with embarrassment and shame like she was going to faint, and almost did, when a loud screech rent the hall. To the amazement of the spectators, Baron flew into the courtroom and settled on the witness stand with Caelin, cheeping in encouragement. It seemed like Turomot was used to such disturbances, although his voice was sharp with barely concealed disapproval as he began questioning her. 

"What is your full name?" 

"Caelin of Harowyn, sir." 

"Are your parents alive and well?" 

"No, sir. My ma died when I was born, and I never met my father." 

"Your age?" 

"16 years, sir." 

"Describe your childhood." 

"I lived in the local tavern until I was six years old, sir, because the tavern keeper promised to look out for me until I could take care of myself. When he threw me out, Lady Seldina took me in as a servant for her and her daughters. I lived there up until three weeks ago, sir." 

"Tell me more about life with Lady Seldina." 

"I...I was a servant, sir. I helped clean my ladies' clothes, helped them dress and undress, helped Cook in the kitchens when she needed help. I cleaned their rooms...just servant things, my lord. Lady Seldina taught me to read and write, and she let me read in the library most days, if there wasn't too much to be done." 

"Were you ever...unsatisfied with your life in Harowyn? Did you resent your lady, perhaps? Were you ever treated badly?" 

The duke's question succeeded in raising Caelin's ire and she glared at the old man, not caring if she wasn't properly respectful. "Sir, you dishonor me. Lady Seldina gave me a home when I had none, fed me, and clothed me. She was always kind and even gave me days off. Her daughters were true ladies and never raised a hand in anger at me. Such thoughts never passed through my mind!" Caelin's voice rose in pitch and she clenched her hands in anger. Like any servant, she had her pride. Any questioning of most servants' loyalty to their masters was a grave insult. 

Duke Turomot's stony face slipped a little, and Caelin could see respect for her loyalty in his eyes, which he quickly covered. For the first time, his voice lost its hardness as he addressed her. "Your loyalty to Lady Seldina and her daughters is duly noted. Now, if you would, please tell the court the events leading up to the murder of Lord Panen of Harowyn, Lady Seldina, the rest of their family, and all their servants." 

This was the moment Caelin had been dreading. As she told the court what had happened, her voice became flat as she strived to recount the events as if she had only been a spectator. "It was early Saturday morning, and Cook sent me down to the village to buy some eggs and milk, since she needed some for the evening meal. I had money that Lady Seldina gave me to get my shoes repaired, so after I bought the eggs and milk I left my shoes with the tailor and walked back to the castle barefoot. When I got back, I noticed there were lots of horses tied outside, but I just assumed that some nobles had arrived to visit unexpectedly. It happened fairly often, because the lord and lady were popular. I knew Lady Seldina would need lots of help with the visitors, so I hurried on inside." 

This was where the horrible memories began to take over. "I was surprised that there was no one running around the hallways when I got inside, because usually when guests come everyone tries to do ten chores at once. I could hear voices in the dining hall, so I went there to see what was going on. There were strange men at the door, and before I could do anything, they grabbed me and dragged me into the room. There were strange soldiers everywhere; they were shabby and hungry looking, like they'd been without a proper meal for a long time. But they had proper weapons and had already used them on some of the men to keep them from fighting back. They kept the men on one side of the hall under guard and herded the women and children to the other." 

Caelin drew in a shaky breath and continued, seeing everything as it had been on that fateful day. "Next they took all the women, up to the oldest grandmother, and they raped them." The crowd gasped in horror and shock, but Caelin ignored them and continued. "Every man took his turn with them, and once all the women had been used and used again, they took the children, both boys and girls, down to Lady Seldina's five-year-old daughter. They made the men watch the entire time, and then they murdered every single one of them, even Cook's baby, and her not even two weeks old. Then they killed the men, because they didn't have any use for them. There was so much blood...the hall turned bright red. The men had forgotten me, but once they killed Lord Panen they remembered." 

Caelin shivered as she remembered, but her voice was detached and quite calm as she continued. "The leader came over, and I guessed he was going to use me too, so I used my magic to make a bright light. While they couldn't see, I ran out of the room and hid in the linen closet. It was so dark and small in there, I thought they wouldn't find me, but they did. I was so scared, I just started...I don't know what I did. I threw magic at them, and I closed my eyes so I couldn't see what I was doing, and I just kept doing it until they were gone. I didn't know what I was doing, I swear! But when I opened my eyes, they were all dead. I burned them. Those that didn't want to die ran, I suppose, since I didn't kill them all." Her voice went quiet, and she said, "I don't know what I did." 

The courtroom was deathly silent as every occupant watched Caelin with expressions ranging from pity to horror to fear. Suddenly a sob wracked the room and set off a storm of tears from many of the ladies and some of the men. Caelin thought it was rather ridiculous, since they hadn't had to live through it, and most of them probably didn't even know the Harowyn nobles well. Once the crying had abated, Duke Turomot cleared his throat and said, "Did you have any prior knowledge of magic? Did you know you had the Gift? Did you receive any training for your Gift?" 

"I knew I had the Gift, sir, but I never received any training for it. In Harowyn, magic is not well liked, and Lady Seldina didn't want me to get any training. She did know I had the Gift, though. With all the spidren attacks we've had at Harowyn, most people don't trust anything to do with magic. Lady Seldina let me read books in the library sometimes, so I knew I had the Gift and learned how to light candles and make a little shield, but I didn't know anything other than that. I don't know how I killed the men, I swear by the Goddess." 

"I now ask the panel to judge Caelin of Harowyn in respect to the murders of the Harowyn family and their servants. I remind you, members of the panel, that you must take into account every piece of evidence given and come to a unanimous decision. You are dismissed for the present." 

The panel left the courtroom, and their absence ushered in a flurry of discussion from everyone left in the room. It seemed as if every noble there had their own opinion and wanted to voice it loudly. Caelin felt faint and leaned against the table, closing her eyes and trying to block out all the strange voices. Baron hopped over and begged for a rub, which she gave absently, her mind in turmoil from the court proceedings. A guard brought over a chair for her to sit in, which she did thankfully, settling Baron in her lap. It didn't take the panel long to come to a decision, but in the overly warm courthouse, under the eyes of the king and queen, it seemed to take hours. 

Once the panel had returned to their seats, Prince Roald stood up and addressed the court. "As speaker for the panel, we have come to the conclusion that Caelin of Harowyn is completely innocent in the deaths that occurred. She will incur no punishment, and is free to do as she will from this moment on." 

As one the court let out a sigh and the whispering began again. Turomot seemed ready to dismiss the court when all of a sudden, Numair stood. The noise stopped as everyone, including the monarchs, stared at the tall mage. "There is one more item to be discussed today, your grace. I have taken the liberty of testing Caelin's magical ability, and she has the potential to be a powerful mage. However, because she has no training to speak of and has not learned any control, letting her go in front of the court and deliver such an emotional testimony was out of the question. I put shields on Caelin to prevent her from letting her Gift get out of control. Now that she has been determined innocent by the court, the question of what should happen to her now needs to be discussed." 

Turomot frowned, not liking the unexpected news being thrown his way. He regarded Numair as he would a very young and annoying upstart. "Very well. What is your suggestion, as you have obviously thought about this a great deal?" 

"I believe Caelin should be allowed to study in Magewinds. Her potential dictates that she needs the kind of teaching the excellent teachers there could give her, and living at the palace will put her where she can be of the most use to the crown." Numair inclined his head to Jonathan and Thayet, who were listening intently. 

Numair's suggestion sent up an outcry from the watching nobles, until finally Turomot bellowed for silence. "Enough! I should hope I don't have to tell you that the palace has long been a training place for nobly born sons, not commoners, and certainly not women. Although Magewinds has only been in existence for ten years, the mages trained here have gone on to be some of the most powerful sorcerers in the kingdom, rivaling even the Mithran masters. Tradition will not easily be overset, Lord Numair." 

"I wouldn't ask the court to lightly overturn such a tradition, but there is no reason superior mage training should be restricted only to nobles and boys. In Carthak, women receive the same kind of training men do, and some of the best mages I have ever met come from Carthak. In Tortall, women with the Gift are either healing women or go elsewhere to receive training, if their Gift is powerful enough. Most just ignore their power and never pursue the magical path." Numair paused, and glanced at the king meaningfully. "The crown has allowed women to serve as pages in court, and women may serve in the Queen's Riders and as healers. This tradition of only allowing men to study magic should be overturned as well." 

All eyes were on the king and queen as they whispered together on their thrones, their dark heads nearly touching. Finally, the king turned back to the court and stood, commanding attention just by his presence. "Numair brings up a valid point, one that should have been taken into consideration when we started Magewinds. If studying magic is the path Caelin desires to take, I see no reason to prevent her from receiving instruction for her Gift, providing that the Panel also agrees." 

Jonathan remained standing as the members of the panel conferred. Finally Prince Roald stood up again and said with a slight grin, "I learned at a very early age that women are just as capable as men in the fighting arts, thanks to my good friend Keladry of Mindelan, the women of the Queen's Riders, and my own mother. We all agree that women should be allowed to receive magical training here at the palace." 

Jonathan smiled faintly and took a breath before saying, "I have been looking for the proper time to announce a decision I, the Queen, and the rest of the instructors of the young here at the palace have decided upon. In the Immortals War and the Scanran War, it came to our attention that the youngsters we expect to fight for the kingdom get little practice working with people who have talents that differ from their own. From now on, the pages training to be knights, the members of the healing school, the paying students, and the students of Magewinds will be working together in their studies. The afternoons will be devoted to their separate studies, but they will eat together and live together. One day a week will be set aside for teaching the students to work together, in the hopes that if another disaster occurs that will require our young to fight, they will be better prepared. As the students are just now coming back from their summer break and will be beginning their studies again, now is the perfect time for change." 

The king's announcement was met by a loud outcry from practically every member of the court. Caelin was weak with relief that their combined attention was finally off of her, and she could hardly believe that she was staying at court, and much less would be the first woman ever to attend the illustrious Magewinds School. At some point during the outcry, Turomot dismissed the court, although everyone was too busy shouting to hear him. Daine and Numair made their way over to her, huge grins on their faces. 

"Well, that went well," Numair said lightly once they had arrived. "You did well up there, Caelin. So would you like to stay on here at the palace?" 

"Of course I would!" Caelin gasped, surprised he even had to ask her. She had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to, and she was being offered the chance to achieve something no other person of her station ever had. Here was a safe haven being offered to her in the eye of the storm. "I can't really believe everything that's happened today. It's too much to understand at once." 

Daine beamed and hugged Caelin one-armed, as a disgruntled mouse occupied her other hand. "I'm so glad you're staying on," she said happily, "and so is Baron. He says he would prefer to stay with you while he's at the palace." 

Caelin looked at Baron, who was humming happily. He waddled over and stuck his head out to be scratched, his eyes lidding over in pleasure. "If you're ready, I took the liberty of arranging a room in the newly organized wing of rooms for the students. I can show you where it is and help move your belongings from the stable to there," Numair told her. 

As Caelin followed Numair and Daine out of the courtroom, Baron flapping above them, she looked at him suspiciously. "You arranged for me to have a room before the trial even started, didn't you?" She accused, scowling at the mage. "That's very arrogant of you." 

"I'm afraid you'll learn that 'arrogant' should have been Numair's middle name," Daine said wryly, but with an affectionate grin for her lover. 

Numair shrugged and walked into the hallway, the smug grin still in place. "I had an idea that things would turn out this way, and look what happened. It wasn't arrogance, just common sense. Now come on, the person I want you to meet should be waiting." Five minutes later and after another hike down the convoluted halls of the palace, Numair and Daine arrived at a hallway filled with children and students running around. Numair stopped at one of the doors and knocked briskly before opening the door and motioning Caelin and Daine to walk in. 

"It's about time you arrived, Master Numair. Is this the girl?" 

"Indeed it is. Caelin, this is Salma, head of the servants in this end of the palace. Anything you need, you go to Salma for." 

Caelin greeted the woman, a brisk matron of middle age with a strong build and gray hair. She answered Caelin's timid greeting kindly enough, and then turned to Numair and Daine with an iron gaze. "And now you two can scat. I'm perfectly capable of taking her on a tour of the palace, and you two will only get in the way. Go on." 

Numair and Daine shrugged at Salma's words and said their goodbyes to Caelin, promising that they would see her again soon. As soon as they left, Salma dragged Caelin out of her room and down the halls, scattering those in her way like feathers in the wind. The tour went by at a rapid pace, leaving Caelin with no doubt that she would never remember where anything was. The tour ended down at the palace stores, where Salma negotiated a fitting for Caelin. 

Two women measured Caelin with a knotted rope, disappeared, and then returned carrying several bundles of clothing. Caelin's new possessions included undergarments, blue, gray, and brown breeches, tan undershirts, the blue tunic that Magewinds students wore, and three other spare tunics of different colors. Also included in the pile, to Caelin's surprise, was a pretty green skirt and tunic, which one of the women slipped her with a wink. 

Salma didn't give Caelin time to thank the two helpful women. Before she knew it, they were back up at her room, and Salma was handing her a special key. "Here, girl, I want you to take this. I gave you the room you have for a specific reason. A few years ago, Keladry of Mindelan was the first female page to serve officially at the palace. Her room suffered from horrible pranks, so we devised a special lock that only your or I can open, so your room will be protected from pranksters." 

A loud crash from outside seemed to distract Salma for a moment. "And of course, we had no forewarning that the king would be making all the changes to the students' schooling system today, so now everyone is running out of control trying to get things ready. The rooms, dining schedules, uniforms...they never think how their pronouncements are going to affect us, do they." She paused and flushed, remembering where she was. 

"Sorry for that, dear. I'm just under a little stress. Now, I want to warn you about something. Your life here at the palace will not be pleasant for a long while. Your presence will be resented. Boys can be cruel, and girls even more so, particularly the nobles. They'll do their best to make you turn tail and run. If you need an ear, don't hesitate to come to me." 

A shout from outside caught Salma's attention, and she turned to go. "Thank you for helping me, and for the tour, and everything else." 

"Not a problem, child," the woman replied before leaving through the door, her mind already fixed on her next task. Once she had left, Caelin looked around her new room with wide eyes. Keladry of Mindelan was one of the most well-known and able knights in the realm, following the King's Champion, Alanna the Lioness, Sir Raoul of Goldenlake, and Prince Roald. She was a hero from the Scanran War, and was the first lady knight to win her shield openly in over a hundred years. 

Caelin sighed. She had so much to think about, her head was starting to ache. As soon as a servant brought food for her and Baron and they'd both eaten, she crawled into the bed and turned off the light. She didn't know what the next day would bring for her, but she was again too exhausted to worry about anything. The bed beneath her was deliciously soft and comfortable, more so than anything she'd ever slept in, and soon, the sound of Baron's whistling as he breathed lulled her to sleep. 


	4. The New Student

**

Chapter Three: The New Student

**

The loud, cheerful chime of bells rudely awakened Caelin from a pleasantly dreamless sleep; ironically, the first night Caelin hadn't had nightmares since leaving Harowyn was interrupted much too soon. Caelin fumbled her way out of the many blankets and the haven the comfortable bed had provided and was met immediately by Baron. He launched himself across the room and accosted her ear, obviously starved and horribly mistreated. 

"Drat you, bird, I'm trying! I'm new here too, you know. And I think you're just going to have to go see Daine to get some breakfast, or hunt for your own. I can't have you coming into breakfast with me, not today at least. Imagine what an impression that would make." 

Baron glared at her indignantly with golden eyes before ruffling his feathers in her face and flying out the slightly cracked open window, drawing whistles of complaint from the sparrows nesting outside. Obviously, he didn't care much about first impressions. Moaning again, Caelin fumbled around the room until she found her new uniform; tan leggings, tanned leather boots, cream shirt, and blue tunic to go over it all. It took her longer than usual to dress as she tried to figure out the proper way to wear her new attire. By the time she was satisfied with her clothes and had tied her hair away from her face, she could hear boys calling out to each other as they rushed to breakfast. 

Caelin gathered her courage and stepped outside the comfort of her room, looking around for any sign of pranks or traps; Salma had warned her of the pranks that would be played on her, and she just hoped she could get through the first day without any mishaps. Caelin didn't need to remember how to find her way to the students' dining hall; all she had to do was follow the stream of boys all dressed in either page, squire, healer, or mage uniforms. 

Once she had reached the dining hall, she was quick to take in her surroundings. Everywhere, boys were gathering in groups determined by age and the color uniform they wore. Most were staring at boys who followed a different discipline with scorn or dislike. In the center of the hall, a small group of girls looked around eagerly, giggling together. They all wore healing green, and were nobles from their manner. Mixed in among the pages were two girls with hair cropped short and dressed the same as the other lads. The younger of the two stuck close to the elder, and seemed to be unsure of her companions, but the older of the two moved with experience among the boys. She had obviously been a page for some time, and was comfortable with the boys. 

Caelin surveyed her options grimly. The noble healer girls would never allow her to sit with them since she was only a poor commoner. The female pages were sticking close to the other pages, and had just as much dislike for their new peers as the other pages. The only other group she could consider joining was the knot of a dozen boys in midnight blue tunics identical to her own, and Caelin didn't have enough courage to approach them. Doubtless they would be less than pleased with the new addition to their ranks. 

Sighing, Caelin positioned herself in a corner and watched all the young people milling about. She had never seen so many youths her own age before, particularly boys, and it was interesting to watch the way they interacted. Even among the pages, for example, there seemed to be a pecking order. The youngest pages were jostled about, although none of them were actually physically hurt, and the eldest kept a tight rein on their younger cohorts. There was camaraderie among them that was a pleasure to watch, as if they knew their place in the world and were happy the way they were. 

_I wonder if I'll ever feel that way._

Gradually a hush fell over the hall as a man wearing worn practice clothes walked into the hall, flanked by two other attendants, one in green and one in blue. The first man had dark, chestnut skin, darker eyes, midnight black hair, and moved with a lion's grace. His face was stern, but not without compassion, and his mouth was quirked in a half grin. He surveyed the students surrounding him, searching among them for the pages, who would be his responsibility. Once he had reached the raised table where nobles and instructors sat, Padraig haMinch cleared his throat and the rest of the chatter ceased. 

"I understand that for you older students, this is a bit of a change," he began in a deep, smooth voice, "but we ask that all of you cooperate to make these changes a success. Be assured that those who don't will find themselves knee deep in punishment work. All of you are here to develop your own specific talents, and to learn how to work with others to best serve your kingdom. Learn to live with your fellow students, whether they study the same discipline as you do or not, because your life and the lives of your friends will most likely one day depend on your learning and theirs." 

The man took a breath and looked at the pages. "First-year pages, step forward." Once the pages had complied, Lord haMinch looked at them critically, but not unkindly. "You will be receiving a sponsor from one of the older pages. They will look after you and teach you about life in the palace. Give your name, and then I ask that one of you older pages volunteer to sponsor. Remember, sponsors are excluded from some chores as they teach the younger pages." 

As the first-years began announcing their names, there was no lack of volunteers among the elder pages to sponsor them. Even if they the older pages didn't get out of some of the normal page's chores, sponsoring pages from other noble families was an easy way to make friendships and alliances. Caelin was most interested in listening to the names of the new pages; to her, hearing names of the oldest noble families in the realm spoken as if they were commonplace astounded her. When Thom of Trebond, Olau, and Pirate's Swoop, the eldest son of the Lioness agreed to sponsor the last new page, Caelin couldn't help but stare at the brilliant redhead. He seemed normal enough, but anyone that had such famous parents was probably either ridiculously talented or arrogant beyond belief. 

Once all the new pages had been taken care of, Lord haMinch turned his attention to the other students. "I expect the older healers and mages to look after the younger students as well. You will attend classes with the pages, and then go to your respective areas of the palace. All chores and punishments apply to you, and any miscreants will answer to me. Be a credit to your teachers and your families; that is all we ask." Lord haMinch then clasped his hands together and asked Mithros to bless his charges with compassion and understanding. Once the prayer was over, the students wasted no time in beginning their breakfasts. 

Caelin reluctantly moved out of her corner and hesitantly sat at the far end of the table filled with mage students. Her arrival was greeted with scornful silence as the boys reminded her who she was by moving away from her and otherwise completely ignoring her presence. Warmth flooded Caelin's cheeks, but she refused to allow them to see how upset she was. Even though the fruit she was given had the most soft spots, she was given the crust of the bread, and the cheese had a small spot of mold on it, it was still the best food she'd ever eaten, she was determined not to utter a word of complaint. 

As the boys worked hard at ignoring her, Caelin studied them from beneath the cover of her long eyelashes. The age of the students ranged from a very small twelve-year-old to a group of four young men who had to be around seventeen or eighteen, and probably in their last year of studies. She knew that every student at the table had a powerful Gift, and every one of them came from the most powerful noble families in the realm. 

Caelin looked down at her work-roughened hands and sighed. There was nothing she could do to make them accept her, so she would just have to learn to live with only Baron as her friend. At least he only complained about being hungry and neglected; he had a generally low opinion of most humans in the world, which meant Caelin was a step above the rest. 

Half an hour after Lord haMinch had said the blessing on the meal, a bell tolled signaling the end of breakfast. Caelin followed the rest of the mages as they dropped their trays off at the end of the table and then trotted to keep up with them as the students bunched together in a mass exodus out of the dining hall. As Caelin was trying to pay attention to where she was going, she didn't notice the booted foot stuck out in front of her. Suddenly she was flying through the air, and would have landed in a lump on the ground if a pair of steady hands hadn't caught her. 

Breathing heavily, Caelin looked up into dark gray eyes and an extremely handsome and oddly familiar face. He was about seventeen and dressed in the garb of a squire. Caelin waited for an insult or a glare, but neither was forthcoming. The young man simply nodded and smiled slightly before slipping back into the crowd. Caelin had no time to wonder about the event, because the students had reached the classrooms, and were being greeted by harried looking Mithran priests. The priests managed to divide the students into groups by age, and Caelin was ushered into a large classroom filled with books and desks. In the front of the room, a priest was opening up a book and peering at the students with rheumy eyes. He looked to be around eighty years old, was completely bald, and his back was hunched over from a lifetime of carrying heavy books. 

The priest delivered a dry speech on the importance of mathematics for people, be them warrior, scholar, or healer, and then set the students to working on complicated problems involving supplying armies and villages. It had never occurred to Caelin that mathematics went beyond adding and subtracting, and she was surprised to find that she was actually interested in the scenarios. There was just one small problem; from the very first, she was completely bewildered by the long sets of numbers and complex procedures needed to find the right answers. The students were supposed to finish five of the problems by the end of the hour, and Caelin hadn't been able to get past the first. 

When the bell rang to signal the end of the class, the priest called the students up to the front to deliver their work and pick up their assignment for the night, which was four more of the supply problems. Caelin waited until the rest of the students had left before approaching the priest, filled with shame by her ignorance. "Well, did you complete your problems?" The priest asked in a crotchety voice when Caelin didn't hand him her work right away. 

"No, sir," she responded, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "I have only learned how to add and subtract, sir. I don't understand these problems." 

The priest frowned and looked more closely at her. "Oh yes, I heard about you. The commoner trying to be a mage. Obviously, you haven't been educated; what commoner has? From now on, you will study with the youngest group of students when coming to learn mathematics. We will build your knowledge from there. Doubtless," he continued in his dry voice, "the other teachers will order similar changes. Go on, I expect you have another class. It would not be prudent of you to waste my colleagues' time," he admonished in a way that suggested she was already wasting his precious time. 

Caelin bobbed her head to the priest and tried not to scowl as she exited the class amidst the trickle of new students entering the room. Luckily, the teacher for her next class was waiting outside the classroom, and ushered her in the door with yet another frown. He was the teacher of deportment and etiquette, and once he had welcomed the class, he had the students work on the proper bows for nobles of different rank. The students were put into groups of four to practice. 

Minutes into the practice, Caelin still hadn't found a group, and realized that she was the odd number out. As she trudged again to the front of the class, wondering if the blush on her face was going to be a common occurrence, the teacher, Master Oakbridge, noticed her and sighed in annoyance. "I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of meeting you. Obviously, you won't have learned any of the most basic manners essential to life in the palace. From now on, report to my class with the youngest students, and take this book. I expect you to read a chapter of this every night and be able to report on it to me in the mornings. You may begin reading the book for the remainder of the class." 

Did all teachers enjoy the word obviously? Again schooling her face to not reveal the resentment burning inside her chest, Caelin returned to her seat with the book. It seemed to her that everyone in the palace, with the exception of Daine and Numair, believed commoners to be ignorant, incapable, utterly undeserving of their attention and concern. Caelin stuffed down her anger and satisfied it by imagining Master Oakbridge mucking out the palace stables. 

_Thinking like that will get me nowhere, _Caelin thought to herself as she opened up the book._ I should just get used to the fact that no one will ever accept me and try to learn as much as I can. I've never had friends anyway, so why should I need them now?_ Still, the thought rang hollow even in her mind. 

The rest of the morning passed in a similar fashion; as the priest teaching mathematics had predicted, every single teacher ordered her to begin her studies with the youngest students. Finally, only one class remained before the end of the morning. Caelin entered the room dejectedly, expecting yet another stern priest. Instead, she found an older man with a shaggy beard and a kind face. He introduced himself as Sir Myles of Olau, which Caelin decided was probably for her benefit, since the other boys obviously knew Sir Myles and were excited about his class. 

Sir Myles taught about the history of Tortall, including important battles, famous kings, and foreign diplomacy. Most of the names and places were completely new to Caelin, but Sir Myles always made sure to point places out on the map and explain in detail the important people the class was discussing. If she kept her attention focused, she was able to follow most of the topics, and mercifully, Sir Myles refrained from calling on her. 

At the end of the class, though, the teacher asked her to stay behind for a moment before going to lunch. The boys snickered as they exited, probably glad that they would be rid of her in all of their classes. Caelin approached Sir Myles and wound her hands behind her back, waiting for the usual 'obviously' and dismissal. Instead, Sir Myles motioned for her to sit down and looked at her with kind eyes. 

"I can see from your face that you expect another set of reprimands, but fortunately, you won't be finding them here. I would just like to welcome you to the palace, since I expect no one else has thought to do so." He nodded ever so slightly when he saw the expression on Caelin's face. "I wish I could teach the boys here humility, but I'm afraid they wouldn't listen to anything I told them. Battles and important events are all very well, but as soon as I talk about chivalry and a noble's responsibility..." he sighed. "You'll have to prove to them through hard work and determination that you are worthy of their friendship and trust. It won't be easy, but it can be done. All I want to do is help you on your way to achieving that respect." 

Caelin's mouth had formed a slight 'o' of surprise. She had never expected such an offer, and especially not from one of the most powerful and rich nobles in the realm. Myles chuckled quietly at her expression and folded his hands on his desk. "I don't know if you are aware, but my adoptive daughter is Sir Alanna, the King's Champion. I am also friends with Sir Keladry, and have been doing my best to make the acquaintance of Fianola and Ravara, the two female pages. Some of my closest friends are thieves, including my daughter's husband, George, who used to be the king of thieves. I don't hold your birth against you, and I believe that if you truly want to, you will achieve great things. If you ever need a friendly ear or help with your studies, don't hesitate to come and find me; generally, I'm hiding in my rooms nursing a glass of wine in the evenings or with my wife, Eleni. Now run along, you'll need lunch if you want to have a hope of making it through your afternoon classes." 

Stammering a few words of thanks, Caelin dropped a wobbly curtsy before rushing from the room, completely stunned by Sir Myles's generosity. At least she had one friend now. Lunch passed in much the same manner as breakfast had. Once half an hour had passed, the students separated to go to their respective classes. The pages filed out with dejection, facing hours of grueling work with weapons and riding. The older pages especially were dreading the workout, since they had all been loaded down with lead weights. Caelin kept close to the group of students in blue as they passed down through the palace halls. Caelin had to force herself to keep walking when they passed by Numair's suite of rooms. Eventually they reached a set of classrooms located at the far end of Numair's hall. A tall man wearing dark blue that had been standing with Lord haMinch in the morning was waiting for the students; as soon as they reached him, he ushered them into the room, waving a hand to indicate that they should sit. 

Caelin took a seat in the back of the classroom as she had in the morning, and studied their instructor. The man had muddy brown hair and a pale face, but his eyes were sharp and watchful. He was about forty years old, and whipcord thin, without an extra ounce of fat on his body. Behind him were two other men in dark blue, probably his assistants. One was in his late twenties, with gray, sallow skin and an irritable expression on his face. He surveyed the students with critical eyes that seemed to find them all wanting in one way or another. The second was none other than Prince Roald; apparently, he had never taught the mage students before, because his appearance was the source of many whispers among the waiting boys. Eventually, the first man lifted a hand for silence. 

"Welcome to your first day at Magewinds. For those of you that are new here, I am Lord Pyrmon of Malia, and will be your main instructor in the magical arts. Siryan of Queenscove is my assistant, and I expect you to treat him with as much respect as you should treat me. Also, Prince Roald will be helping teach for a few weeks, just until the rest of the teachers return from their respective posts. Today will be a fairly easy day; you will be split into groups, and one of us will test each of you. For the older students, this is to see if your Gifts have increased or changed in any manner over the break. For those students that are just joining us, we will ascertain the strengths of your Gift so we may concentrate on training you accordingly. Realize, all of you, that training to be a mage is not easy work. You will be just as tired and bone weary as the pages for all their crazy weapons training, and some of you may not succeed. The life of a sorcerer is dangerous, especially when you tamper with forces no mortal should control. Control and realizing the limit of your abilities is essential. But for those of you who do succeed, be assured that you will be among the finest sorcerers in Tortall, and well equipped to serve your king and fellow countrymen." 

Lord Pyrmon sighed, and Caelin got the feeling that he meant his warning, and was expecting some of the students to fail. She was determined not to be one of them. The students were split into groups, and to Caelin's distress, she was placed with the mean-faced Siryan. She couldn't believe that he was related to Dom in any way. The hours ticked by slowly with no one to talk to, as one by one the students were called into a separate room to be tested. 

Caelin was aware that several of the boys were staring at her with curiosity. She would have talked to them, but she was determined not to be the one to make the first move. Nobles were supposed to be more polite than commoners anyway, although she suspected that she had more manners than most of them put together. Lady Seldina had made sure Caelin was always polite and considerate to others, no matter what they did to provoke her. Of course, at the palace there was no Lady Seldina to make her watch her manners, and Caelin wondered how long it would be before she lost her temper and told one of the high and mighty nobles exactly what she thought of them. Looking at the other boys, she could take pride in the fact that at least she could remain still and quiet while they fidgeted. 

"Caelin of Harowyn? Come in." The barely hidden disgust in Siryan's voice made the other boys giggle behind their hands. Caelin ignored them and walked into the small room set aside for testing. Siryan was sitting at a desk, and Caelin employed the empty chair across from him for her own use. As soon as she sat, Siryan said, "Since you haven't had any proper training, you obviously won't be able to perform even the simplest spells." _Obviously. I really could learn to hate that word ._"Can you do anything at all?" 

"Sir, I'm afraid I can't do anything until the shields Master Numair put on my magic are taken off." 

"Oh, give me your hand." Siryan took Caelin's hand and sat for a good five minutes with his eyes squeezed shut, a look of deep concentration on his face, which only made him more dour and unattractive. No matter how hard he tried, Caelin didn't feel the touch of another mind on her own, which she had felt when Numair placed the shields. For that, she was thankful, as she had no desire to come into any more contact with Siryan than she needed to. Finally he let go and gave her a look of embarrassment mingled with extreme dislike. "I can't take Numair's shields off, they're too complicated. Report to Lord Pyrmon when the bell rings." 

Siryan swept out of the room, his robes billowing behind him, and immediately began harassing the chattering boys, who had given up trying to be quiet. Once Siryan dragged off the boys he suspected to be ringleaders, Caelin left the room and returned to her seat. Clearly, the boys wanted to know what she had done to instigate Siryan so much, but since they still refused to actually acknowledge her presence, Caelin decided smugly, she wouldn't tell them a thing. 

Once the bell rang signaling the end of their afternoon studies, Caelin approached Lord Pyrmon. When she coughed nervously, the man looked up curiously, wondering why one of his young students had remained behind. "Please, sir, Instructor Siryan told me to come to you to have Numair's shields taken off and to be tested." 

"Oh yes, I should have remembered that at the beginning of the afternoon. Why didn't you speak up, girl? This will only take a moment." Lord Pyrmon set down the papers he was looking through and frowned in concentration. This time, Caelin immediately felt an alien presence in her mind. The invisible barriers came down one by one, and the feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff returned in full force. As Lord Pyrmon withdrew from her mind, Caelin began to tremble. What if she lost control again? It was only a matter of time. 

"You're worried that you'll use your magic to hurt someone again, is that it?" Caelin looked up from the ground into Lord Pyrmon's concerned eyes. "I imagine that without any control over your Gift, life can be somewhat interesting at times. Am I correct?" Caelin's red face was answer enough for the instructor. "I may be able to help you gain some control over yourself, if you don't mind giving up some of your free time before dinner to learn." 

"Would you? I never know when I'm going to lose control and blast someone. It never happened before that night, but now that I know I can do it, it could happen any time, I think." 

"This won't be an easy solution," Lord Pyrmon warned her, "it takes time and dedication. You need to practice this every night, or you're never going to succeed in controlling your magic. I'm going to teach you how to meditate. Meditation helps you clear your mind when you need to, and you learn how to keep a mental control over your Gift, as opposed to just acting based on need. Sit down, close your eyes, and breathe in for five counts, and then out." 

Caelin obeyed, wondering how breathing exercises would help give her control over her Gift, but she didn't question Lord Pyrmon. After several minutes of slow breaths, he said, "Now I'm going to help you do this the first time; after that, you'll need to learn how to work this yourself. Usually, meditation is just a relaxation technique, but it can also be a very useful way to organize the mind." 

Abruptly, it felt like a pair of guiding hands had entered her mind. Caelin followed the hands until they reached the very core of her being, where a pool of turquoise blue fire sparkled and leaped. With every jump, the fire splashed around, melting into other parts of her mind. The hands showed Caelin how to form a barrier to keep the blue fire where it belonged, so it couldn't explode without her consent. The shields wouldn't impede magical work when she needed it, but they would prevent dangerous accidents. 

Caelin blinked and opened her eyes when she felt the hands leave. Once again, she felt like she had when Numair had put the shields on the day before, but this time, there was no taint of foreign magic left behind; just Caelin. A bubbling feeling pervaded around her, and she puzzled over it until she realized that it was pride; pride in her accomplishment. 

Lord Pyrmon refused to accept Caelin's heartfelt thanks. "Helping you if part of my duty, youngling. One who has such a powerful Gift, and has been through so much, deserves any help I can give. Now go on, I'm sure you have plenty of work to catch up on from this morning." Lord Pyrmon mock frowned and waved her away with a long, pale hand. 

Caelin grinned and trotted out of the room, feeling much better than she had all day. Already she had learned her first piece of useful magic. As she walked down the hall towards her room, Caelin wondered what the future would bring to her in the palace. 


	5. New Beginnings

Requisite Author's Note: Ahem. I appologize for not keeping up with the whole updating thing...past few weeks have been a bit insane, but I'll try to be better about it from now on. Really. As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

**

Chapter Four: Beginnings

**

"Baron, I don't suppose you know the underlying causes of the Tusaine War, do you?" Caelin looked up wearily from the book she currently cradled in her lap and stared longingly at her feathered friend. Baron was sprawled on his back in the windowsill, his feathers comically ruffled from the slight breeze drifting through the open window. He looked quite ridiculous, and was apparently completely content. 

_Why should I concern myself with your human problems? You fight too many silly wars for immortals to keep track of. _

Caelin blinked and shook her head ruefully. Hearing a bird, although admittedly a very special bird, speak definitely meant she had been reading for far too long. Shutting the book carefully and standing up, Caelin wondered what she could do. Sunday afternoons were the only time the busy palace students had any time off; mornings were dedicated to learning how to work with the other students, but the teachers had graciously decided to give the students the afternoon off to rest and reflect on their day. Or, as was usually the case, bemoan their injuries and wonder why they had ever come to the palace. 

For Caelin, her first two weeks at the palace had been monotonous. Despite her early hopes and fantasies, life at the palace was not such a vast improvement from her old one. Every morning at breakfast, she sat by herself and tried to ignore the scathing comments and rude jokes the boys directed to her about commoners. Then she faced the humiliation of learning subjects with boys several years younger than she was, and in most cases, still feeling ignorant. The only class she did moderately well in was Sir Myles's class, and he had the ability to make even the stupidest students understand the concepts of war, diplomacy, and espionage. Her afternoons were spent under Siryan's tutelage, learning how to cast mundane spells such as lighting candles and calling light to her palm. She had mastered such spells on her own before she even knew what the Gift really was, yet because it was her first year at Magewinds, Siryan insisted that she couldn't move up to the next group of students. Caelin wished she could ask Lord Pyrmon for help, but she knew no one would respect her if she went to the teacher for help; she had to learn to survive life at the palace on her own, or it would never improve. 

The worst part, she decided, was being ignored. Aside from Baron, who couldn't respond to her chattering anyway, she had absolutely no one in the entire palace to talk to. Salma was always busy organizing something or another, and she couldn't even talk to Daine and Numair; they had gone visiting Lady Alanna at Pirate's Swoop, and wouldn't be back for weeks. And as Dom had complained about, Lord Raoul kept him so busy chasing after bandits and spidrens that he was rarely in the palace at all. Caelin felt like she was going to go crazy if she didn't find someone to talk to. 

Acceptance, for both her place in life and the inherent unhappiness that always seemed to accompany it was what she needed. That, of course, was easier said than done. Most of the people in Harowyn Caelin had known were relatively happy with their lives. As long as they had food and basic necessities, they accepted their status and position in the kingdom. Caelin had always wondered what it would be like to be something more, someone important. Her girlish dreams had faded as she hit puberty, but she had still sometimes let herself wonder about lost opportunities. Now that she had come to Corus, she lived daily among the luckiest people in Tortall, yet she herself was an outsider looking in on their charmed lives. 

"I'm going to the library, Baron. You'll have to hunt for yourself tonight, and remember to at least _try_ and not scare the sparrows, all right?" 

_I won't wait up for you._

Caelin shook her head at her own silliness and let herself out of her room, checking for any surprises. Usually Salma managed to have the messes the boys left cleaned up before Caelin noticed, but she had stepped into enough piles of horse muck to learn wariness and caution. As she walked down the hall, she whistled a tune that had been her favorite back in Harowyn and let her mind wander. There was a book on sorcery in the library that she had a feeling she wasn't supposed to know about, and so she was planning to study it for the rest of the evening. Siryan would have a fit if he found out. 

"Ouch!" Caelin cried as she walked into something extremely hard. Blackness interspersed with bright stars filled her vision, and she sat down gracelessly with a loud thump. 

"I'm sorry! Here, let me help you." Cool hands touched the lump forming on Caelin's forehead, and immediately soothing warmth filled her head. The blackness and stars disappeared, and Caelin felt able to open her eyes. As her eyes focused, she saw the most beautiful girl in the world crouching next to her; she was about Caelin's age, with milky white skin, a tumble of black curls that fell in exquisite ringlets to her shoulders, brilliant green eyes, and full lips. She was wearing the green robes of a healer, which unfairly seemed to perfectly match her eyes, and carrying a heavy stack of books. Caelin suspected they were responsible for the slight knot developing on her head despite the girl's efforts. And, to Caelin's annoyance, the girl was naggingly familiar, but Caelin couldn't place where she had seen her before. 

"I'm sorry, miss," Caelin muttered, as the girl watched her with inquisitive eyes. No doubt in a few minutes the girl would realize she was the revolting commoner come up with another inventive insult to go onto Caelin's list. It was a very long list. "I wasn't watching where I was going. I'm sorry for delaying you." 

"Not a problem," the girl replied, still watching Caelin. Caelin was about to leave, when suddenly the other girl sighed and threw her hands in the air. "That's it! I'm tired of watching you slink your way around the palace every day like a dog waiting to be kicked. You have just as much of a right to be here as any of the other students; from what I've heard about you, probably more! My name's Lianne, and I would like to formally welcome you to Corus and the royal palace." 

Caelin blinked, stunned beyond belief. Whoever this girl was, she was unlike any noble Caelin had ever come into contact with. Looking at her outstretched hand, Caelin hesitantly accepted her grip, and was delighted to find out that calluses from hard labor covered the girl's hand. "Thank you, Lady Lianne, for your kind welcome. I really should be going though." 

Lianne dropped her hand and looked curiously at Caelin. "Go where? You were certainly in a hurry to get somewhere. I think you may have dented one of my books!" 

"Not nearly as much as they dented my head," Caelin retorted dryly without thinking. Then, panicking because she was in no mood to insult a touchy noble, she added quietly, "I was going to go to the library and study for a while." 

"Really? I was just going to meet up with a few friends to study. We have a separate room that we like to go to, since the library is always so noisy. The little ones just don't understand how to study quietly, bless them. Would you like to come? We always help each other with our work, which makes it go faster, and I can introduce you to my friends." 

"Me?" Caelin squeaked, her voice rising about five octaves. "I could never.they wouldn't let me come, miss. Really, if you invite me you're just asking for trouble, and I don't want to cause you to fight with your friends. Trust me, the library is good enough for me." 

"Nonsense," Lianne replied firmly, taking Caelin's hand. "And stop calling me miss, or lady. Lianne is my name just as Caelin is yours, and I don't want or need any titles. It's about time the nobles at the palace got a little awakening on the way the world works; where would they be without commoners and tradesman, anyway? It's just luck that they were born rich nobles instead of starving peasants. It may take them a while, but eventually they'll come to accept you. Once they do, I can guarantee that the rest of the students will follow. Now are you coming?" 

"I suppose I don't really have a choice," Caelin muttered as Lianne led her down halls that were slowly becoming familiar. "I just hope you know what you're doing." 

Lianne stopped in front of an oak door and flashed Caelin a brilliant grin, which made her already beautiful face shine from the inside out. "I _always_ know what I'm doing." And with that, she opened the door and stepped inside, keeping a firm grip on Caelin's hand. 

The room was large and lavishly furnished, with red velvet chairs, couches, and cushions. A fire crackled merrily in a large fireplace, since Tortall was beginning to move into late fall. Lights encased in globes lit the room perfectly for reading and studying, and each piece of furniture was equipped with a hard slate for writing on. Someone had thought long and hard about everything students would need for a comfortable study environment, and then went ahead and created the room. 

Sprawled on almost every available piece of furniture were boys, ranging in age from ten to eighteen. Most of the members of the group were over fifteen, and the younger boys only allowed in by sufferance, or because older pages, like Lord Thom, sponsored them. Thom was in the corner of the room, avidly reading a huge book, while his young friend looked over his shoulder and tried to keep up with his reading pace. In the opposite corner on the largest couch, a group of girls giggled with each other. Caelin was surprised to see that the group, besides containing a few healers, also included the two female pages. 

With Lianne's entrance, almost every occupant in the room looked up and called out greetings, particularly the older boys, who were all transparently in love with the beautiful girl. When they looked past Liane to see whom her companion was, their expressions immediately became guarded, and the look of welcome disappeared. Lianne pursed her lips and frowned as she said, "Excuse me everyone. I would like to introduce you all to Caelin of Harowyn, who is studying to be a mage. She'll be joining us for the afternoon, and I hope all of you will do your best to make her feel welcome, since she _has_ only just arrived." Lianne's words had the ring of command in them, and no one in the room was likely to openly defy her. Again, Caelin felt a flash of familiarity, but pushed the matter to the back of her mind as one of the youths reluctantly moved so she could sit on a footstool near Lianne. 

Conversation was slow to start up, but after Lianne glared around warningly a few times, they gradually shrugged and went back to their own affairs. Two of the oldest boys made room for Liane on the couch and offered to help her with her mathematics assignment. As soon as Lianne's attention was elsewhere, Caelin felt something wet and sticky land on her neck. Suppressing a yelp, Caelin picked off the piece of paper that had been spit from someone's mouth and reminded herself sternly that she _wasn't_ going to cry. 

She ignored the displeased murmuring of the group of pages nearest to her and concentrated on Lianne's cheerful discussion with the two handsome young men wearing the colors of their knight masters. 

"So when do you suppose Liam will be coming home?" The blond boy asked as he wrote rapidly on Lianne's paper. "I can't believe they called them out _again._ Do they ever stop working?" 

"He knew he was in for a lot of work when he agreed to be Raoul's squire, but you know my brother, he never backs away from anything. It really is a great honor that Raoul picked him; everyone thought that once Keladry was knighted he would go back to being without a squire like he used to, but as soon as Liam passed the big exams, Raoul snatched him up. I think my father was actually disappointed; he wanted Liam to serve as his squire." 

"Well, hopefully they'll finish dealing with those giants in time for the big tournament and all the balls. Liam would never forgive Raoul if he missed the tournament, although I suspect he wouldn't mind being called away before the balls." This time it was the youth with dark brown hair and eyes who spoke, wearing the colors of Queenscove. His statement merited a burst of laughter from the three, which made Caelin wonder why the Liam hated balls so much. Perhaps he couldn't dance? That was the only reason Caelin could think that anybody would want to miss a ball. 

"Try to stop Raoul from being at the tournament," Lianne said merrily once her laughter had subsided. "One of the foreign knights was silly enough to question his jousting skills, and now Raoul is determined to draw him in the tournament and deliver a severe pummeling. You know how he can get when his pride is wounded." 

The rest of the boys laughed, and Caelin wondered who Lianne's family was. Because she was in her training outfit, and hadn't given her family's name, Caelin had no idea which noble family she belonged to. Probably an important one, to judge from the crowd she had gathered around her. Of course, anyone who was as beautiful as Lianne would have plenty of male friends. 

"Caelin, how have your studies been going? It must be so exciting, being a mage. I always wanted to be a mage, but beyond healing, I'm fairly useless." 

Caelin gulped as dozens of eyes focused on her, waiting for her response. "It's.not very exciting yet. We're still learning the basics, like lighting candles and calling light. I hope we move on to something else soon; it gets repetitive doing the same spells over and over." 

"Some peasants think they're right high and mighty now that they're at the palace, don't they?" A voice behind Caelin's back and to the right muttered. "Questioning our noble instructors like they know what they're talking about." 

Lianne was about to respond, her eyes flashing, when a knock sounded on the door. A servant entered and bobbed a curtsy. "I'm sorry to interrupt, princess, but your mother would like a word with you." 

Caelin gasped and suddenly realized why Lianne looked so familiar. With her black hair, green eyes, and flawless face, she could only be Queen Thayet's daughter. Lianne gathered her books and followed the servant out, giving Caelin an encouraging smile that barely registered before disappearing. Caelin knew her mouth was open and she probably looked like a deranged cow, but she couldn't believe a princess had actually bothered to talk to her, to even care, about Caelin of Harowyn. 

"Just because Lianne likes you doesn't mean we have to." A harsh voice cut through Caelin's thoughts. Turning around, she realized it was the same voice who had been whispering the worst insults and throwing the sticky bits of paper at her. He was tall for his age, with black hair and black eyes. He was at least half Bazhir, handsome, and probably in his last year as a squire. "You aren't welcome here. You're just a common slut who slept her way into the palace. And you probably did murder Lord Panen and his family, no matter what the panel ruled!" 

Caelin's blood went cold as she stood up, and she could feel a murderous rage spreading through her body. Several of the boys backed away when they saw she was glowing a pale blue. The young man wearing Naxen's colors said nervously, "Leave off, Paen. She didn't do anything to you. D'you want to cause another accident?" Although it wasn't an order, the tone in the youth's voice was enough incentive for Paen to step away. 

Breathing deeply as Lord Pyrmon had taught her, Caelin managed to gain control over her rage, although she still glowed blue. With eyes that matched her glowing magic, she regarded the boys around her and spat, "You make me sick, all of you. Where are the manners you nobles always boast of? Without people like me, you wouldn't have your fine clothes, or your fancy weapons, or your books; or did you think it was nobles like yourself that created such fine works of art? Unlikely. It's not the knights that protect your fiefs from being overrun and your families from being killed. It's the foot soldiers who bleed to death on lonely fields because the healers are too busy tending the nobles with little scratches! Put you out in the real world beyond your sparkling palaces and fancy balls, and not one of you would be able to survive. Did you know that a pretty boy like you, Paen, probably would have ended up in a children's brothel before you were ten years old? I suppose that didn't occur to you, or anything else, for that matter, because your vaunted brain contains nothing but useless fluff. It may not have occurred to any of you, but the world doesn't revolve around your lives. So please, continue to call me names, spit on me, and insult my honor. I'm just a commoner and a woman, what do I know? The only thing I'm certain of is that after spending just two weeks at the palace, I'm grateful that I won't ever have to call myself a noble!" 

Caelin panted from the force of her diatribe and glared around at the stunned faces of all the boys around her. Not one made a noise as she gathered her books and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Only when she had reached her room did she let the tears she had been holding back leak out. No matter what she did, her words couldn't be unsaid. Before, all she had to deal with was their animosity. Now she would become the enemy of every noble at the palace for what she had said. And worst of all, when Lianne, who had the noblest blood in all of Tortall, heard what she had said, she would never want to speak to the commoner again. 

She didn't even notice when Baron flew into the room and curled up comfortingly against her side. 

***

"Another perfect start to yet another _wonderful_ day at the palace," Caelin muttered as she ran down the hall, awkwardly trying to lace up her tunic as she went. She didn't even care about the curious stares of the servants wondering about the half dressed girl running rampant down the hall. All she wanted to do was get to breakfast before she made the rest of the students wait any longer. She was already ten minutes late, and everyone would be waiting to see who had made them wait to eat and lose ten minutes of their precious breakfast time. Of course, if she hadn't spent all night crying instead of sleeping, she probably wouldn't have slept right through the bell. 

By some miracle, when she finally reached the dining hall, Caelin had managed to completely lace her tunic and was in some semblance of order. She hadn't bothered to pull her blond hair back, which now hung wildly about her face, but there was nothing she could do about that now. Gathering her courage, she pushed open the door and walked into the dining hall, aware of all the angry eyes turned on her. She was slinking to her seat when Lord haMinch called, "Being on time is a virtue, Caelin of Harowyn. Report to me before your first class of the morning." 

Her face flushed to the color of a ripe apple, Caelin slipped into her customary seat and waited for the food to be passed down to her. As she accepted the bowls from the nearest seated mage student, she was surprised to find that the worst parts hadn't been left to her for once. _Someone must be sick, then,_ she thought as she eagerly took a bite out of the freshly baked bread. And for once, none of the usual comments about commoners and women without virtue reached her ears. Something was definitely odd today, Caelin decided, but she wasn't going to ask questions. She would just enjoy the brief respite and wait to see what new torments they would come up with the next day. 

Once the bell had rung to signal the students to go to class, Caelin walked up to Lord haMinch and bowed. She had decided after her second day that it was silly to try and curtsy when she didn't know how to properly, and her etiquette lessons had taught her how to bow reasonably well. Lord haMinch looked her over for a minute before saying, "I understand life hasn't been easy for you here, Caelin, but do please try and respect the rules set down for you. Report for a bell Sunday afternoon to the armory, and you will be taught how to care for weapons. Doubtless as a mage you won't be using many weapons, but you never know when such skills will come in handy. Dismissed." 

Caelin bowed and trotted away, not giving herself time to ponder why Lord haMinch had been so reasonable. The morning classes went by quickly, and before she knew it, she had finished lunch and was entering the magic room with the rest of her classmates. Lord Pyrmon was sitting in his customary position behind his desk, and Prince Roald was off to his right, but for the first time in the two weeks she'd been at the palace, Siryan was nowhere to be found. 

"Because Instructor Siryan is sick today and unable to teach, Prince Roald will be taking over the younger students, and his usual students will sit in on my class." 

Caelin could barely contain her excitement as she and the younger boys followed Prince Roald into the second practice room, where they usually studied with Siryan. Once all of them had arranged themselves on the floor around him, Prince Roald said, "I'm not sure what Siryan has been teaching you, but I think you're probably all ready to learn a little summoning magic. Summoning is an important technique to learn. Pretend you're in a battle and either don't have any magic left, or are facing an opponent with superior magic. You can summon weapons to you so you aren't completely defenseless until someone comes to your aid. If your Gift is strong enough, you can even summon other people to you, although I can guarantee you'll have quite a headache after you do so, and they may not be pleased at being dragged around by an invisible hand." 

The students laughed and listened attentively as Roald explained how to summon. The principle was much the same as lighting candles, Caelin mused, except it took more concentration and pure power. Once he was sure all the students understood their tasks, Roald let them practice. They started by summoning small objects, like pieces of paper and writing utensils. By the end of the afternoon, though, every student had managed to summon a large book, and Caelin had been halfway through summoning a desk over to her when the bell rang. 

Students groaned when the bell rang, and clamored around Roald, begging him to teach them again tomorrow. The prince laughed and promised to see what he could do. Caelin smiled happily, feeling like she had actually learned something useful. She was so preoccupied with thinking about the lesson that she didn't notice a form that had crept up behind her. A gentle tap on her back grabbed her attention. Whirling around, she came face to face with Roald himself. 

"Sorry to scare you," the prince said, steadying her. "I just wanted to congratulate you on your work today; you're a fast learner. I saw that desk floating over at the end of the class," he teased, since they had been told not to summon anything larger than a book. "I actually have a message for you from my sister, Lianne. She's expecting you to be ready for another study session this evening." 

Caelin stopped herself from groaning at the last minute; after all, Roald was Lianne's sister, and probably wouldn't like to hear that Caelin thought his sister was a busybody, albeit a well-meaning one. "Thank you for the message, highness," she responded instead. 

Roald surprised Caelin by laughing. "I can see you've never met anyone like my sister before, have you? Let me give you a warning; Lianne doesn't like to throw her rank around, and if she could, I think she'd like to forget she was ever born a princess. She knows she's lucky to have the freedom she does; my other sister, Kalasin, truly wanted to be a knight, but because she is the oldest princess, she had to go study elsewhere in the kingdom, and now she's empress of Carthak, a position she never wanted or looked for. I think she's happy, but she would have preferred another path," Roald explained, eyes a little sad as he thought about his other sister, so far away. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, Lianne really does want to be your friend, whatever you may believe now. Don't think less of her because she's a princess; she didn't have any more control over her birth than you did. Now go on, I'm sure you'll need time to get ready for tonight. And don't forget to practice your summoning." 

Caelin bowed to Roald and walked out of the room, her head whirling from the events of the day. _Perhaps the water was soiled this morning; everyone's acting crazy. I'm actually having a good day!_

Roald was right about one thing though; if she was going to have to crawl into the lion's den again, she at least wanted to look presentable. Once in her room after the evening meal, and after giving Baron his meal of bloody meat, Caelin dug through the closet and came up with her nicest outfit. It was a dark blue skirt embroidered with lighter blue patterns, with a light blue over-tunic that matched the pale embroidery of the skirt. Even though most of the students would still be in uniform, yesterday the other girls had been wearing normal clothes, so there was nothing wrong with Caelin wearing something new. She decided to keep her hair down, but made sure to brush out all the tangles from the morning so that it flowed in shiny waves down her back. 

She had just finished gathering her books when a knock sounded on her door. Caelin opened the door to find Lianne standing there, a slightly apprehensive look on her face. "Oh good, Roald did give you my message. Look, I'm sorry for yesterday. I could see what the boys were doing to you, and have been doing since you got here. But I do want to be your friend, if you don't mind." 

"Me? Mind? Highness, you have some odd notions in your head, if you don't mind me saying so." 

"I don't mind; I've heard that before, and doubtless I'll hear it again. Please, though, treat me like anyone else, or I may have to dunk you in the palace pond. It's Lianne." 

"All right, Lianne," Caelin replied, loosening up a little. She still wasn't entirely comfortable with Lianne, but the girl seemed to be friendly and willing to have fun. 

"Much better. Are you ready to go?" 

As they walked down the hall, Lianne chattered about her classes that day, Caelin listening attentively. Her nerves returned full force once they reached the study room, and she prepared herself for another day of slights. However, no one made any comments except those of welcome when they entered the room, and this time, one of the boys left a space for her on the couch next to Lianne. 

_It has to be the water,_ Caelin decided as she opened up her latest reading assignment from Master Oakbridge. The man was determined to stuff as much useless knowledge about the proper behavior at balls and feasts as possible in her head; it seemed silly to Caelin, since she would be the last person likely to attend an event like that, but Master Oakbridge would hear no protests. 'What if you were to perform an important service to the Crown, and a feast was thrown in your honor? _Obviously_, such a thought never occurred to you.' 

Luckily, her reading assignment for the night was quite short, so she was able to finish it and then move on to mathematics, easily her least favorite subject. They were studying something called algebra, which involved numbers that didn't exist and other confusing details. Caelin hid a laugh when she noticed several of the first year pages in her class toiling over the work as well. She turned her attention reluctantly to the problem that had been giving her so much trouble that morning, and because it was incomplete, had earned her four extra punishment problems from the priest. 

Caelin groaned and hit the paper in exasperation as yet another of her attempts at solving the problem failed. A quiet laugh sounded behind her, and someone peered over her shoulder. "Oh joy, algebra. It took me _ages_ to make any sense out of the stuff. Would you like some help? I'm all done with my work for the night." Caelin turned around and found herself face to face with the boy who had cautioned Paen the night before. 

Suddenly, Caelin decided she didn't want to play the shy, modest girl anymore. That was fine for nobles, but as they had all been so kind in pointing out, she _wasn't_ a noble. Among people of their own class, commoners were the most talkative, and at times, blunt people she knew. They had no reason to flatter anyone, after all. Caelin had never had any reason to reprimand anyone before, but now that she was at the palace, she had reams of things to say to the cocky young nobles. Sizing the young man up, Caelin boldly demanded, "Why should I think you won't just give me the wrong answers to get me in trouble, or rip my paper as soon as I give it to you? Thank you oh so kindly, noble sir, but no thank you." 

The young man startled, his blue eyes clouding over in confusion; he was obviously not used to being talked to that way. Then he grinned. "A day has done nothing to soften your tongue, Caelin. I suppose you have every right to talk to me that way, but honestly, I was being serious when I offered to help. I'm the math genius among the squires. You really don't want to refuse my help." His tone was honest, and he stared directly into her eyes, without wavering, which would have indicated that he was lying. 

"All right then, but I'll curse you beyond all recognition if you're lying." 

"Duly noted. My name's Aremin. Now let me see that problem." 

With Aremin's help, Caelin was able to see where she had been getting confused, and soon all of her math problems had been completed. Once her guard was down, she was able to admit to herself that she liked Aremin; he was witty and friendly, and didn't seem too self-involved. His companion from the night before, the brown haired boy wearing the colors of Queenscove, introduced himself as Orrin, Aremin's cousin and best friend. He helped Aremin tell a hilarious story about Sir Gareth the Younger of Naxen, Aremin's knight-master. 

Caelin found herself laughing along with the two big squires, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed a first-year page that was in all of her classes trying desperately to reach the last book on the highest shelf of the bookcase. After a moment he sighed in defeat and returned to his footstool, every once in a while glancing up at the book sadly. Caelin only debated for a moment before reaching for her power. Concentrating carefully on the book, she sent out a slim line of blue, which grabbed the book and then placed it on the surprised page's lap. 

"Bravo! That was brilliant," Aremin said as he clapped along with Orrin and a few of the boys sitting near them. Caelin blushed, suddenly glad that the pages and squires didn't know that summoning was only a beginner's trick as she accepted the young page's profuse thanks. Lianne caught her gaze and winked solemnly, letting Caelin know that she knew how easy summoning was, unlike the boys, but she was still happy for her new friend. 

The rest of the evening passed without disruption, as the students buckled down to finish their work. None of them wanted to get punishment on a Monday, since they would then be trying to catch up for the rest of the week, and undoubtedly pick up even more punishment work in the process. Even the prospect of working in the armory Sunday afternoon couldn't dim Caelin's spirits as she hesitantly waved goodbye to Aremin and Orrin and followed Lianne down the hall towards her room. 

Once they had reached Caelin's room and Lianne was saying goodnight, Caelin finally blurted out what had been bothering her the entire night. "Lianne? Why are they being nice to me all of a sudden? I don't understand. Yesterday they hated me, and now they're helping me with my assignments. I thought maybe the water supply was a bit off, but it hasn't seemed to affect me at all." 

Lianne's eyes glimmered with amusement as she responded, "Caelin my dear, yesterday you did something that nobles rarely have happen to them; you shamed each and every one of those boys, and quite neatly, may I add. You reminded them of all the qualities nobles are supposed to exhibit, and that they most often don't. Even if not all of them like you, they won't harass you anymore, because it would make them wrong, and nobles hate being wrong. Aremin and Orrin are my closest friends; for my sake, they tried to get to know you, and they've decided they like you." Lianne waved away Caelin's protests with a delicate hand. "Trust me, I know them practically better than I know myself; they find you refreshingly different from all the court ladies they're starting to deal with." 

Caelin laughed at that and said goodnight to Liane, realizing that for the first time since she had arrived at the palace, life seemed to be more bearable. 


	6. Tournaments, Balls, and New Acquaintance...

Author's Note: All appologies for not updating this story, as it is indeed completed. I've been occupied with the new original story I'm working on, and completely forgot I had been planning to re-post this. Enjoy, and I'll make a valiant attempt to remember to update more frequently. And, as always, reviews are greatly appreciated. 

Chapter Five: Tournaments, Balls, and New Acquaintances 

Winter, 

in the 25th year of the reign 

of 

Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 

464 

"I'm beginning to envy Liam his knight master. I can't feel my arm anymore." Aremin sighed dramatically and flopped down on Caelin's bed, nursing his right arm dolefully. "Because Gary's busy trying to organize the tournament, he's given my training into the hands of Lord haMinch himself, only one of the most vicious swordsman in all of Tortall. He says working with the training master is good for me, but as far as I can tell, if I get any more 'help' I'm going to be ruined for life!" 

"You do look a little bruised," Orrin observed thoughtfully, cocking his brown head as he looked down at Aremin's arm, which was splattered with purple, blue, green, and yellow bruises of all sizes and shapes. "Maybe the ladies will like your colorful arm. It's very decorative. You never know." 

"Please, spare me! My dear mother has decided that it's never too early to begin planning for Corinith's future heirs, and will no doubt be throwing me at every available lady of proper blood during the festivities. Never mind that I still have my duty as a squire to uphold, that won't stop her. Perhaps I'll copy Raoul and hide in one of the back rooms until everyone goes away. It always seems to work for him." 

Caelin listened with half an ear as Orrin and Aremin bantered back and forth, but the rest of her attention was concentrated on a new spell book she had found in the library. It was a fascinating read on the various types of divination and ways to predict the future. Caelin Gift didn't work to predict the future, but she still loved learning about all types of magic. Siryan would most likely have a seizure if he knew she was studying the book, because it wasn't applicable to her studies or appropriate for her supposed skill level, but he refused to let her move beyond the pace of the other first-year mages, and she was growing bored with the mundane activities he assigned her. 

A smile spread across her face as she regarded her two large friends. As Lianne had predicted, Orrin and Aremin had become her closest friends, along with the princess herself. Aremin's theatrical, flamboyant, and friendly nature could brighten even the worst days, and Orrin was always there with solid, practical advice or a sarcastic comment, and his verbal sparring with Aremin was a daily source of amusement. They had taken her under their wings and helped introduce her to the nicest boys her age. They also made it completely clear to those boys who still resented her presence in the palace that she was to be treated with respect. 

"So boys, are you excited that Liam's coming back to the palace tomorrow for the tournament? I dare say, things will be much more lively with the terrible trio back together," Lianne drawled from her position on the floor next to Caelin's bed. She was busy petting Baron, who had shamelessly begged her until she conceded to pet him; somehow, he always knew who the weakest of Caelin's friends were on a particular day, and laid siege until they gave up and stroked him to his heart's content. 

"You have no idea, my dear, how excited we are. I'm just worried we'll be assigned to fight him in the tournament; he's got more live fighting experience than the both of us do combined, and he'll most likely wallop us. Although perhaps that wouldn't be so bad for you, Aremin. If you fight him, none of the ladies will be paying any attention to you," Orrin suggested mischievously. "They'll only have eyes for the handsome prince." 

"Now there's an idea," Aremin said enthusiastically, before launching into a long aside on the many ways he could convince Liam to beat him into the dirt. Caelin was actually looking forward to the tournament coming up. She had been raised on bard's tales of the nobles and their gallant tournaments, where knights fought for the lady of their choice and the glory of victory. Since coming to the palace, she had learned that tournaments were actually fought to prepare squires for real combat and to sharpen the skills of all Tortallan knights, but she was still eager to attend. Despite Aremin and Orrin's objections, she knew they were two of the finest squires at court, and would no doubt acquit themselves honorably. 

"I, for one," Caelin remarked idly without looking up, "am quite looking forward to meeting this Liam. For all that you talk about him, I practically feel like I know him already." Three pairs of eyes shifted guiltily at her words, and three hands rose up to mouths to prevent laughter from leaking out. Caelin, of course, was oblivious, as she was already thoroughly engrossed in her book again. 

"I assure you, Liam will be just as excited to meet you as you are to meet him," Orrin responded finally, once he had gotten control of his fit of giggles. His words caused the other two to break out into laughter as well, and soon Caelin was the only one of the four not laughing. 

"Are you sure you three are all right? Maybe that fever from last week is coming back again, and all three of you are infected. Perhaps I should notify Salma; she'll take extra special care of you, I imagine." 

The laughing stopped immediately. "You wouldn't, would you? Really, Caelin, that's nothing to joke about. You know Salma doesn't like us, ever since that incident with the frogs our first year. Please tell me you're kidding." Aremin's eyes flashed wildly, and Orrin's face was stern as he tried to convince her that he had completely recovered. Watching their antics, Caelin couldn't help giggling too. 

*** 

"I can't walk. Every single muscle hurts. I'm hurting in places I didn't know could hurt." 

"Perhaps they'll take pity on us and just let us die," Caelin suggested contemplatively, feeling every bit as beaten and bruised as Lianne was. They had just finished their Sunday morning work with all the other students, and the day's lesson had been defensive tactics, in case they were ever attacked during a battle. Even though the mages and healers were just learning the basics, the pages had been instructed to wallop them thoroughly with oaken staves to drive the lessons home. Every time they forgot to block a blow or let their guard down even a little, they were supposed to be hit. The boys had been quite enthusiastic in their duty." 

"Yes, but then my father would have to pay for so many funerals, and it would be quite messy. I suppose they'll just let us suffer some more," Lianne said grimly as she limped her way down the hall to her room. Caelin had been surprised to discover that Lianne had the same type of room she did, and wasn't given any special privileges because of her rank. "Oh, before you go soak your aches, come in for a minute. There's something I need to show you." 

Caelin nodded in agreement and followed Lianne into her room. Once there, Lianne hurried over to the closet and drew out a stunning ball gown. It was a pale blue inlaid with silver swirl designs, and the neckline was outlined in darker blue velvet. Caelin had never seen such a beautiful dress before; it would probably feed an entire peasant family for a year. It was a work of art, the product of a master's long hours. "It's lovely, Lianne. Are you wearing it for the ball after the tournament? You'll never be able to keep those noble boys off of you." 

Lianne grinned evilly and held the dress up in front of Caelin. "No, actually. You are." 

"That is not my idea of a funny joke," Caelin replied weakly, stepping away from the dress. Suddenly the gorgeous dress seemed sinisterly threatening. 

"It's no joke. You're going to come to the ball, wearing this dress." 

"Why should I go to the ball? I'm not a noble. Balls are for important people, which I most certainly am not. None of the other students except for the serving pages and the squires will be going. You can't just make an exception for me. You're crazy." Sometimes she just didn't know what got into Lianne. As much as she loved her friend, the princess came up with the most outrageous ideas. 

"You're invited now, Caelin. I asked my mother, and she said it's perfectly fine if you came as my guest. And since you are my guest, it was my duty to provide you with a suitable dress. Come on, I need someone there to keep me sane. Do you have any idea how tiring it is to listen to those fluff-brained ladies trained at the convent chatter at me? And I even have to pretend I like them. With you there, I'll at least have someone to talk who won't rot my brains. Please?" 

Caelin frowned sternly. "Oh no. Don't start with the pouting. I can't, Lianne. I wouldn't know the first thing about attending a ball. It would be a scandal! People would never forgive you, and that would be bad for your family. And besides, that dress would never fit me anyway." 

"Oh yes it would. I took your measurements from the palace tailors. It's a perfect fit, and if not, we can always get it fixed. We have three days, after all. And I can teach you everything you need to know about going to a ball; Goddess knows I've been to more than my fair share of them. Come on Caelin, do this one favor for me? I'll love you forever." 

_It's got to be the pout. I've seen her turn the charm onto Aremin and Orrin, but she's never done it to me. Curse that pout. _

And, to be perfectly honest, for all that Lianne had done for her, she owed the princess more than she could ever repay in one lifetime. "I suppose you want me to try the dress on now?" 

Anything else Caelin could have said was drowned out by Lianne's squeal of delight. 

*** 

"So, how do I look. Be honest now, Caelin, I couldn't stand it if you lied to me. I await your sharp tongue with anticipation and delight." 

Caelin looked over Aremin and grinned. "Sorry, there's nothing for me to complain about. You look wonderful." It was true. Aremin was a character out of a tale, outfitted in light silver chain mail, his sword hanging at his side, the bright colors of his knight-master, Duke Gareth the Younger of Naxen, gleaming on his shield. "I still don't understand why you have to get all dressed up. I thought tournaments were for you to learn how to fight, not to look pretty." 

"They are," Orrin called over from the other side of Caelin's room, where Lianne was hastily polishing part of his armor. "But because this is such a big event, when the introductions of all the competitors are read off and we're paired with our opponents for the events, we're supposed to look nice. We have to impress all the ambassadors and dignitaries from foreign countries with our chivalry as well as our fighting prowess. Its really a bit of a circus before the actual fighting begins." 

"You'd think that after winning three consecutive wars in a row, people would stop trying to conquer us," Lianne muttered as she finished polishing Orrin's breastplate and pronounced it fit. "But no, they always decide we're weak just because we don't regularly try to build an empire and start something new." 

The four of them looked at each other nervously, wondering if they too would be called on to fight for their kingdom. Then Aremin cleared his throat and said, "Well ladies, I suppose there's no putting it off. We need to go find Gary and Neal. Wish us luck, and we'll see you tonight at the ball, even if we won't be able to talk to you." 

Caelin and Lianne chorused their well wishes as Aremin and Orrin left Caelin's room. The two girls talked idly for a while before Lianne finally said, "All right, let's go down to the tournament area. I can't stand the pressure. Besides, we don't have anything else to do." 

Caelin grabbed a fur-lined jacket before following Lianne down the hall. Tortall was experiencing the warmest winter in living memory, warm enough for even the Lioness to remain at the palace for Midwinter without complaining. Although extra layers were still needed when venturing outside, the tournament was being held outside for the first time, and would include jousting. In previous years, jousting hadn't been included in the Midwinter Tournament because it had to be held indoors in the great ballroom. 

When they reached the outdoor practice courts, Caelin was surprised to see that they had been transformed into tournament grounds. All around the practice courts, chairs had been set up for spectators. Flags flapped merrily in the breeze and banners were stretched between trees everywhere. The coats of arms of every knight participating in the event were displayed prominently on either side of the practice courts. Colors radiated in the early morning sun. Ladies in their elegant dresses and coats waved handkerchiefs at the men of their choice as the knights and squires began to assemble on the courts. Near the stable, more chairs had been set up lining the jousting area. Stefan was busily helping to prepare horses as the tournament neared its start. He looked harried and harassed from all the activity, but was completely in his element as he directed grooms to polish the horses to a fine shine. On a raised wooden platform, King Jonathan, Queen Thayet, and the various ambassadors and important dignitaries were already sitting down, talking and laughing merrily, their breath curling up in the chilly winter air. 

"Why aren't you sitting up there?" Caelin asked as Lianne led the way to two seats in the front row, near several other students their age. 

"Because I begged and pleaded not to have to sit up there, that's why. If Kalasin were here with Kaddar, she would have to, but because I'm only the second princess, I get a little more freedom. Besides, tonight will be more than enough time for all my prospective husbands to look me over." Lianne shuddered. "I'd much rather be serving with Aremin and Orrin; the pages and squires get all the luck. And you only have to go to one of the balls this week; I have to attend seven!" 

Caelin listened to Lianne ramble on with one ear, while the rest of her attention was focused on the myriad of sights around her. Soon the last of the seats had been filled, and all the competitors were assembled on the practice courts. King Jonathan called for the crowd's attention and welcomed them all to the Midwinter Tournament. Then a man wearing palace livery began introducing all of the knights, his voice augmented by a spell, followed by their squires, if they had any, and ending with the squires without knight-masters. Or mistresses. 

She couldn't believe when the herald introduced Sir Alanna and Sir Keladry. The King's Champion, despite being middle-aged, still looked agile and impressive in gold-washed armor with her Lioness shield prominently displayed on her arm. Of course, Caelin was sitting close enough to see that the knight with fiery red hair and purple eyes was less than pleased to be taking part in the theatrical aspect of the tournament. From the sadistic gleam in her eyes, she was looking forward to the fighting that was to come. Sir Keladry was standing slightly farther down the line, far enough away so that Caelin couldn't see her face, but she could tell that the Lady Knight was talking with Sir Nealan of Queenscove, her best friend, and her betrothed, Sir Cleon of Kennan. 

When Aremin and Orrin were announced, Lianne and Caelin cheered loudly, along with the rest of the pages in the crowd. Unlike some of their peers, Aremin and Orrin were always kind to the younger pages, and were clearly the most well liked squires at court. The last knight and squire pair to be announced was Sir Raoul, the Knight Commander of the King's Own, and his squire, Prince Liam of Conté. The entire crowd cheered for the prince, if not quite as loudly as they had cheered for his brother Roald, the heir. 

Caelin tried to get a glimpse of the young man her friends had spoken so highly of, and his famous knight master, but they were so far down the line of competitors it was impossible to see anything. Once the cheering had died down, the herald announced that the lists of assigned competitors would be posted on the wall of the stable. The knights and squires had half a bell to change into their fighting clothes and be back to begin the first part of the tournament, which was fencing, followed by archery, hand-to-hand combat, and then jousting. 

For the two girls, time passed quickly enough. They cheerfully tried to guess whom Liam, Aremin, and Orrin would be fighting and predicted which knights would win each event. The events would be run as a knockout tournament. The competitors would be randomly paired up, and whoever won the first fight would move on to the next round. Whichever knight defeated every opponent he or she faced would be proclaimed the winner. Two royal officials judged each bout, men with fighting experience who were well paid so that they wouldn't accept bribes. 

When all the knights and squires assembled again, the herald read off the pairings for the benefit of the spectators. Caelin groaned when she heard that Aremin would be fighting Sir Owen of Jesslaw, one of the best knights in the realm, but was pleased to discover that Orrin had drawn a fellow squire. As expected, Aremin lost to Owen, but he fought well, and Owen congratulated him honestly on his skills after their bout. Orrin handily beat his opponent, and sat down on one of the many benches provided for the fighters as he waited for the rest of the bouts to finish. 

After the first round, the only squires remaining were Orrin, Liam, and a squire who had just arrived at the palace wearing Cleon of Kennan's colors. Liam and the strange squire faced little known knights, and while the other squire lost, Liam beat his opponent to the crowd's delight. Orrin, unfortunately, drew Alanna the Lioness, and lost to her by a landslide. He didn't seem upset as he shook hands with the Champion, and his eyes were slightly glassy as he walked over to sit with Aremin. 

"I think Orrin has a little crush," Lianne whispered to Caelin as Orrin re-enacted every move of their short bout. Slowly the numbers of competitors thinned, until the two remaining were, to the crowd's amusement, Sir Alanna and Sir Keladry. The two women grinned at each other, saluted the king with their swords, and began to fight. Both were excellent swordswomen, and the battle raged fiercely, until finally, Alanna defeated Keladry in an ingenious move that made the crowd roar. 

The next event, archery, didn't go as well for Caelin's friends. She didn't even recognize most of the competitors that moved onto the final rounds, and the winner was completely unknown to her. The next event, hand-to-hand combat, was less interesting to watch. It wasn't until the final bout that Caelin really paid attention, and was stunned to find that Liam was one of the competitors, and the other a lithe looking Bazhir who had done well in both the previous events, and was an expert in combat without weapons. He had taken the Lioness down after a long and grueling match, although admittedly, wrestling had never been the Lioness's forte. 

"This should be interesting," Lianne murmured as she leaned forward in her seat to watch. "The knight is the son of a Bazhir chief, and he was one of the first full Bazhir to ever win his shield. He learned from the best, and even received lessons from traveling Shang masters. But Liam has been training with the Shang Wildcat and Horse since he was six years old, and if he had really wanted to, I think my father would have let him join their order. But Liam's always been dead set on being a knight, so the Shang have to do without." 

The new information was startling, and made Caelin pay even closer attention. Once the bout began, the two warriors circled each other warily, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally the Bazhir attacked Liam, and the two exchanged lightning quick kicks and punches, neither giving the other an advantage. Another flurry of fighting left the Bazhir favoring his right arm. Liam took the opening and let fly with a hard kick, rendering the Bazhir's arm useless and then knocking him unconscious with a seemingly light tap to the head. 

Once again the crowd cheered loudly, and Caelin's curiosity was piqued even more by Lianne's mysterious brother. The last event of the day, before the knights and squires soaked away their bruises and the ladies prepared for the ball, was jousting. Jousting was something that fascinated Caelin, since she still found riding to be an intimidating activity; Dom hadn't had time to teach her since they'd arrived at the palace. 

To Caelin and Lianne's surprise, Orrin, Aremin, and Liam all made it to the third round of the jousting. In that round, Orrin was unhorsed three times by Lord Wyldon, the old training master, and one of the best jousters in the realm. Liam drew his knight-master, Raoul, and although he managed not to fall off, was declared the loser. Aremin lost to Sir Keladry, but only fell off on one of their three runs. In the end, Sir Raoul was the undefeated champion, but only by a hair over Lord Wyldon. 

The winners of all the events were given a prize of several gold coins and their pick of the weapon of their choice from Raven Armory, the most expensive and prized armory in the kingdom. It was late in the afternoon when all the presentations were finished, and the princess dragged Caelin to the women's baths so they could clean all of the dust off that they had acquired from watching the tournament. Then Lianne brought Caelin back to her room, where they could both dress. Caelin was sitting on Lianne's bed waiting for the princess to get Caelin's dress from the closet when a knock sounded on the door. 

At Lianne's request, Caelin walked over and opened the door. To her complete astonishment, Queen Thayet stood with two servants and a third woman who looked vaguely familiar. "Hello, Caelin, it's nice to see you again. How are your studies coming?" 

Caelin stuttered something to the queen and opened the door completely to let the women in. The two servants carried pins, bottles of unknown substances, and various other items, of which Caelin had no idea what their uses were. Lianne's room, which normally easily fit Caelin, Liane, Orrin, and Aremin, was now crowded to the bursting point. "I know this is a little uncomfortable," the queen continued, "but it's a tradition for Lianne and I to get dressed for balls together, ever since she tried to help me as a little girl and ended up pouring black ink all over the dress. She was three at the time," the queen explained, a nostalgic smile gracing her face. 

Lianne's face, which was already flushed from her mother's story, turned an even brighter red when Caelin glared at her. "A warning would have been nice," Caelin whispered to her viciously as the queen retreated behind a screen with a servant to change into her dress. Lianne introduced the familiar-looking woman as Lalasa, the seamstress who had created Caelin, Lianne, and Thayet's dresses. The businesslike woman soon had Caelin and Lianne changed into their dresses. Liane's was a forest green dress that was elegant in its simplicity. The only embellishment was black embroidery at the neckline, and pearls sewn into the cuffs of each sleeve. The queen's dress was maroon and silver, with patterns of silver embroidery in the maroon velvet. Like Lianne's dress, Thayet's dress had jewels at the sleeves, but also across the circular neckline and the hem of the dress. 

Next to Thayet and Liane, Caelin felt like an ugly duckling. Whereas before her dress had seemed extravagant and much to fancy for her, it now seemed to be barely passable for such an illustrious event. Caelin grimly imagined all of the ways the night could and would go wrong as the two servants began brushing all sorts of strange powders on her face. Once they had put on enough face paint to satisfy the watching Lianne and Thayet, they started pulling Caelin's hair into complicated twists, and stuck pins into her head viciously. There were tears in Caelin's eyes by the time the two women had finished their work, and although Lianne and Thayet whistled, they wouldn't let her look in the mirror yet. Another hour and a half passed as Thayet and Lianne had their hair and makeup done. Caelin felt a little more optimistic when she saw how perfect they looked, but then, they were both stunningly beautiful, and she was only average. 

"All right, ladies, now you can look." Lalasa moved away from the mirror she had been standing in front of, and Caelin eagerly followed Thayet and Lianne to see how she looked. If she had been surprised when Daine had spent a few minutes fixing up her appearance before the trial, now she was absolutely stunned. Besides the dress, and the makeup that improved her appearance without being obvious, her hair was the crowning achievement. Most of the blond waves still hung down her back, but the two servants had pulled some of her hair up into a complicated knot on the back of her head, and stuck tiny jeweled pins into the knot to make it twinkle. 

Caelin couldn't find the words to thank the servants, Lalasa, the Queen, and Lianne for their efforts. Every attempt was waved off, until Thayet finally ordered Caelin to desist with her 'yammering.' An order was an order, but her gratefulness still shone from her eyes. Once they had eaten a small meal, one that gave them energy but didn't weigh them down, Thayet sighed and regarded the two girls. "Well, there's no putting this off any longer. Shall we go?" 

Caelin's heart was in her throat as they started down the hall on the long walk towards the royal ballroom. They passed elegantly dressed nobles every step of the way, all of whom insisted on greeting Thayet and Lianne. Caelin was grateful for their presence, because it meant the nobles were too busy socializing with royalty to notice the third member of their party. Two servants were waiting by the ornately carved, oaken doors that led to the ballroom. As they approached, the servants bowed and swung the doors open. 

Never before had Caelin seen a more spectacular sight. The ballroom was the biggest room in the palace following the royal library. Golden mage lights shone everywhere, illuminating the huge room easily, even though the sun had long since dropped beneath the horizon. The floor was made of ceramic tiles with elaborate designs and brilliant colors, and the ceiling and walls were tan with ornate wooden carvings along the top edge where the walls and ceiling met. The room was already filled with dozens of nobles, with more and more arriving every second. The squires and pages, all in their best uniforms, walked among the crowd offering drinks and refreshments. 

"Feeling a little overwhelmed?" Lianne asked as she led Caelin to an unknown destination. She was too busy staring at everyone around her, aware that she probably looked like the village idiot, and not really caring. 

"Not at all," Caelin replied, her voice high-pitched and trembling to her ears. Why had she ever agreed to come with Lianne? Every single person in the room was above her in station. She would have been content to watch the tournament and then go back to her room for a quiet night of reading or practicing magic. Instead, she was poised to have one of the worst evenings of her entire life. 

"Well, this should make you feel better. Hello, Daine, Numair, you both look wonderful." 

Caelin refocused on her surroundings and realized that Liane had led Caelin to a corner of the ballroom where sure enough, Daine and Numair were standing. 

"Good evening, Princess Lianne," Numair replied, before turning to greet Caelin. "You look beautiful, Caelin. It's good to see you again." 

"It is," Daine continued, giving Caelin a hug. She looked very pretty in a red dress, and contrasted perfectly with Numair's black hose and tunic of velvet. "I'm sorry we haven't had time to visit, things have just been a little crazy." Daine's face darkened a little, and then she shrugged off whatever she had remembered. "So tell us how your studies are going." 

Caelin was beginning a tirade on Siryan's shortcomings, many of which Numair and Daine agreed with, when Lianne pulled on her sleeve. "I'm being summoned by my royal father," she said with a depressed look on her face. "Time to go dance with arrogant nobles who seemingly possess only half a brain." She smiled wanly before walking across the ballroom to where Thayet and Jonathan were waiting with a group of young noblemen. Caelin silently wished her friend luck before continuing her conversation with Daine and Numair. 

Time flew by rapidly as she talked with her friends. Although they kept getting interrupted by various visitors coming to talk to Daine and Numair, Numair had still managed to tell Caelin where some of the more advanced magic books were hidden in the library. Then, in a brief break from visitors, Numair said, "I've been meaning to find a time to come talk to you, but I suppose now is as good as ever. I'm considering taking on an apprentice, someone who I believe has enough magical talent to learn many of my secrets. If something should happen to me, we're going to need someone else to hold the mages in the kingdom together. Are you interested?" 

Caelin gaped at the tall mage, not quite sure she'd heard him correctly. "I...are you sure? Aren't there other students that would be better? A boy?" 

"None of them have half the potential that you do," Numair replied seriously, reaching over to take her hand. "You have the potential to be one of the greatest mages the world has seen in many years-if you get the proper training. And although Lord Pyrmon is a fine teacher and powerful mage, his method takes at least six years to develop students. You can work at a faster pace, if I teach you. And to be honest, we may need your skills sooner than you think." Numair's handsome face was dark with worry, as Daine's had been earlier. 

"Is something wrong?" Caelin asked, suddenly feeling a pit of dread forming in her stomach. She didn't want anything to threaten her newfound happiness. 

"Nothing yet, we've just had a few warning signs. You don't need to worry yet, and hopefully won't have to at all. So what do you say?" 

"Do you even have to ask? Of course I'd like you to teach me. Will I still take classes with the rest of the mages?" 

"Not unless you really like studying with Siryan." He laughed at the look of disgust that flooded Caelin's face. "I didn't think so. Of course, you'll still go to all your regular morning classes, and the Sunday morning training sessions, but the afternoons will be reserved for me. When I think you're ready, you'll take the Ordeal of Sorcery." Caelin gulped. Although the Ordeal of Sorcery wasn't as well known as the Ordeal of Knighthood or Kinghood, the Ordeal for sorcerers was just as dreaded by the mages as the pages and squires dreaded their Ordeal. 

Caelin was about to reply when Numair tilted his head. "It looks like duty calls. Daine, the Carthak ambassadors would like to ask us a few questions. Caelin, we'll see you later." Caelin waved them off cheerfully, not even upset at being left all by herself. She was too excited at the thought of studying under Numair. Finally, she would learn advanced magic. It sometimes scared her how much she wanted to learn. Working magic was like an addiction, one she could never get tired of. 

"Hello. What's a beautiful lady such as yourself doing all alone?" 

Caelin looked up in surprise and found a young man with golden brown hair and handsome features looking at her with blatant admiration. She had seen him earlier, dancing with Lianne. Lianne had seemed bored, but perhaps he was nice. As Aremin and Orrin had taught her, it never hurt to try. "Maybe I like being by myself," she teased, a grin letting the young man know she wasn't quite serious. 

"I'll bet that you'd have even more fun with me, my lady," he replied, grinning in return. "May I inquire your name, fair lady?" 

"It's Caelin." 

The young man's smile slipped a little, replaced by a slight frown. "Where have I heard that name before? It sounds very familiar." 

"This is the wench that was involved in the deaths of Lord Panen and his family. She's studying at the court now, but she obviously forgets her place. Commoners don't belong here." Paen stepped from behind a pillar, a tray in his hands, wearing the traditional serving uniform of the squires. Although most of the students had grown to accept her presence, Paen still resented her, and led the small but vocal group that tried to make her life miserable. Without Lianne, Aremin, or Orrin around, Paen felt free to harass her as much as he liked. 

The young man's face transformed from friendliness to a mask of disgust. He glared at her coldly before walking away, his head held high. Immediately he went to a large group of young men and women, and pointed back at her. Paen grinned smugly as every single one of them glared at her, and one of the ladies said something about commoners playing dress up-badly. Caelin blinked back tears as her face turned bright red. She was about to slink out of the room when Lianne rushed over, her face a study of carefully controlled anger. 

"Caelin, don't you dare. You're going to retreat into that shell of yours, and I won't have it. You were having such a nice time. Don't let the castle swine ruin your ball. Come on. There's someone I want you to meet." 

Caelin didn't have much choice except to follow Lianne. She could feel the astonished eyes of the nobles who had just snubbed her when they saw that she was walking with the princess. Eventually, Lianne stopped in a far corner where a young man was waiting. Caelin jolted when she realized that it was the young man who had prevented her from falling on her first day of classes at the palace. On close inspection, he was pale skinned from the winter with jet-black hair that was naturally tousled and fell close to his eyes, which were gray. "There you are, Liam. I've been meaning to introduce you two all evening, but I couldn't get away from the swarms for long enough." So this was Lianne's brother. Caelin's interest sparked as she regarded the young man. She was slightly put off by the look of blatant disinterest in his eyes, although his expression was carefully schooled into politeness. "Oh dear, here comes another one," Lianne sighed when she saw an older woman leading a young man straight towards her. The musicians struck up a new song, and as Lianne was swept away, she called, "Why don't you two dance?" Then she was lost in the crowd. 

Liam regarded Caelin for a minute before holding out his arm. "If you wish, my lady." Caelin was surprised by his less than friendly treatment. Surely he knew she wasn't a lady, and that she was Lianne's friend. Lianne had said that she'd told Liam about her, and that he was interested in meeting her. Maybe Lianne had just been trying to be nice. 

"Of course," Caelin replied, taking Liam's proffered arm. Even though she was sure Liam wanted nothing to do with her, now that he'd offered, it would have been rude to refuse. Liam led her into the middle of the dance floor and put his arms around her waste. A few days ago, Caelin wouldn't have had any idea how to dance, but Lianne had been good on her word and taught Caelin to dance by playing the man's part. Lianne wasn't this tall though, Caelin thought absently as she reached up to place her hands on Liam's shoulders. He was tall, and his shoulders were well muscled from a warrior's life. 

As they danced, Caelin waited for Liam to make some attempt at conversation. She could see nothing but boredom in his gray eyes as he swept her along the dance floor. He was an exquisite dancer, but that couldn't distract her from his obvious personality defects. Anger began to grab hold of Caelin, sinking angry black hooks into her chest, and she could feel blue fire crackling at her fingertips, ready for use. Caelin ordered it down forcefully and looked directly into Liam's eyes, determined to make him talk whether he wanted to or not. 

"You must have been very happy when you won the hand-to-hand combat this morning," she said in her most sickeningly sweet voice. Perhaps if she acted like one of the other empty-headed ladies, Liam would be happier. 

"Of course," he replied distantly, eyes wandering around the room. He had barely registered her words. Caelin tried several other attempts as conversation, ranging from the seasonable weather to the upcoming midwinter festivities, each topic generating even less response from her partner before she finally had enough. As soon as the song ended, she let go and backed out of Liam's arms, her blue eyes now blazing angrily. 

"If you didn't want to dance, your highness," she said in a clipped voice, trying not to draw attention, "you should have just said so. I'm quite accustomed to being slighted by nobles, but you should be proud. I've rarely been angrier. Feel free to go tell your friends; I'm sure they'll be absolutely thrilled by the news." 

She turned to go, but was stopped by a warm, callused hand. "Wait. What did Lianne say your name was?" For the first time since she'd met him, Liam's eyes held a sign of life in them. 

"She didn't, but it shouldn't matter. You obviously know exactly who I am." With that, she ripped her arm away and stalked across the dance floor, avoiding the elegantly dressed couples sweeping around the room. She didn't care that she was being laughed at, or that a strand of her elegantly piled hair had fallen out and was draped across her eyes. She reached the double doors and didn't even hesitate as she walked through them. Caelin cursed the dress she was wearing; if it had been hers, she wouldn't have hesitated to run, but since it was only borrowed, she was forced to walk in small, mincing steps down the hall. 

"Wait!" Caelin turned to see Liam sprinting down the hall, his hair flying as he ran up to her. She turned away and was about to start back down the hall when he jumped in front of her, his eyes now an intense shade of green. "Please, let me explain." He took a deep breath and said, "Please, just tell me your name, that's all I want to know." 

Caelin glared at the prince but muttered, "Caelin of Harowyn, Highness." 

The prince appeared stricken at her words and sighed. "And once again, I manage to royally mess things up. I thought you were just another one of those scatter-brained ladies. I've had to dance with them all night, and I really have a very low tolerance level. Sometimes, as a prank, Lianne introduces me to the worst of them, just to torment me. I thought that's what she was doing. I didn't realize you were the friend she's been telling me so much about." 

Caelin looked at the prince suspiciously, not sure if she believed his story. "Why should I believe you?" She demanded caustically. "If you're just trying to get on my good side, and then you're planning on tormenting me, you can forget it. I won't sit here and take it meekly. I'm done with that." 

Liam now appeared desperate as he said, "Aremin was right, you do have a sharp tongue, almost as bad as the Lioness when she gets going. Has Paen been giving you any trouble lately? I sponsored him as a favor to his family when he first came here, and I regret that fact every day. He's an annoying little toad. Oh, and how's Baron doing? Orrin wrote me about him, says he's a bottomless tub when it comes to food." 

As Liam spouted off questions like they were old friends, Caelin realized that the prince was telling the truth. Only Lianne, Aremin, or Orrin would know about those things. "They weren't joking when they said they wrote about me!" She blurted out, before blushing at her own boldness. 

"I really am sorry, Caelin. I've been looking forward to meeting you, and here I go ruining everything. Do you think we could start over?" 

Caelin studied him, and finally decided that he was really serious. "All right." 

Liam swept a courtly bow, a twinkle in his eyes, which had suddenly morphed from green to blue. "May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, fair lady?" 

"Caelin, my lord prince," she said, curtsying wobbly, a pale imitation of the court ladies, which caused both of them to burst into laughter. The ball seemed to be ready to go on all night, and whereas before that would have been cause for horror, Caelin was now thinking it wasn't such a bad thing after all. 


	7. Trouble on the Horizon

Author's Note (Apology): Sorry, sorry, SORRY for forgetting that I was going to re-post this story. Senior year taking 4 AP EXAMS caught up with me, and I did very little writing, and subsequently forgot to post this. Well, now that I am officially done with high school (well, tomorrow, anyway) I will get this sucker posted and begin writing again. I know I mentioned a Miache and Zefrem story before, and I think that may soon be a reality. Keep checking in! Feedback is always appreciated.

**Chapter Six: Trouble on the Horizon**

"Try again."

Caelin's fists unconsciously clenched as she stared angrily into Numair's uncompromising eyes. He had been saying those same words for the past three hours, but Caelin still hadn't been able to call up lightning. Every time she made an attempt, pictures of the men she'd slain passed in front of her eyes, and she immediately slammed a shield around her magic. It didn't matter that she was only trying to call lightning onto a piece of metal that would absorb the heat harmlessly if she succeeded; she couldn't do what Numair was asking of her. Her patience snapped.

"I can't, all right? I just can't. I know you think I'm going to be a powerful mage, but maybe I just won't be able to call lightning. I can do plenty of other useful things. I hardly see why this is so important." Her blue eyes were the color of frozen ice and sparked dangerously as she glared at her teacher.

Instead of his usual patient remark, irritation spread across Numair's face, transforming his normally pleasant visage into something almost fearful. "It is important. Whether or not you overcome your silly fears may affect the fate of the entire kingdom. If you stopped being so selfish and looked around you, you'd notice that things are not perfect in Tortall. Some of us are gravely worried, and all you can do is throw a juvenile temper tantrum. Fine then, stop trying." When Caelin only gaped at Numair in wonder and fear, he sighed and closed his eyes. "I can't work with you anymore today. Just go, and be back here tomorrow. We'll try again."

Trembling in contrition and worry, Caelin stood up and walked quietly out of Numair's workroom. Daine was seated on the couch in the main room with a bat in her lap, worry in her eyes. Caelin could tell she wanted to ask about the fight she had overheard, but Caelin silenced her with a sharp nod of her head. Gloom descended on Caelin like a blanket as she headed back to her rooms. In the few weeks she had been working with him, Numair had never lost his temper. Never. When she couldn't accomplish something, he simply explained to her in gentle terms why he needed her to keep trying, helped her understand what she was doing wrong, and eventually, she succeeded. This was the first time she could remember that he had raised his voice. It scared her.

            It wasn't just Numair, either. For the past few weeks, a growing sense of worry had pervaded the palace. Important officials walked around with frowns on their faces. Knights returned from the field looking haggard and worried. The monarchs themselves had lines of stress on their faces that hadn't been noticeable a few weeks before. The worst part of it all, Caelin decided, was that no one would talk about what was happening. It was as if everyone who knew anything had taken a vow of silence on the matter.

Caelin reached her room with the intention of taking a hot bath and relaxing for the rest of the afternoon when a voice hailed her from down the hall. A small smile appeared on her face as Liam ran up, his black hair messy as usual and his eyes a clear blue. "Hey, I thought you had lessons today."

"I did," Caelin replied glumly, leaning against her door in defeat. "I couldn't call lightning-again-and I lost my temper. Numair started yelling and kicked me out. I suppose I deserve it, but Numair's never acted that way before! He kept going on about the kingdom needing my Gift, and some sort of trouble. I wish I knew what was wrong."

Liam's eyes mysteriously shifted to a slate-gray, and a nervous expression appeared on his face. "You know what's wrong, don't you?" Caelin accused, feeling slightly put out. Now even her friends were keeping secrets from her.

            "I do know, but I'm not about to tell you." At Caelin's glare, he cringed and continued, "We're not supposed to talk about it; only specific people know what's really going on anyway. I only have a vague idea, and I don't want you to worry about things you can't control."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately, and I don't like it any better coming from you than from anyone else. Anything that threatens Tortall threatens me, especially when the trouble has something to do with me, even if nobody will tell me _why_ it has something to do with me." Liam's expression remained closed, although she could detect a hint of compassion in their gray depths. She sighed in exasperation and decided to drop the topic. "There's no use fighting with you when you're in one of these moods. Was there something you wanted?"

"Oh yeah," Liam replied with a grin, his eyes changing back to a clear, sparkling green. She could always tell what kind of mood he was in, depending on his eyes. Black when he was angry, gray when he was being mysterious or hiding something, blue for extreme emotion, and green...Caelin felt her cheeks turn red. Apparently, Liam's eyes were only green when he was around her; at least, according to Lianne, Aremin, and Orrin. "I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride, since you have time now. I know I promised to teach you, and I finally have an evening free."

Caelin smiled, elation spreading across her face. She'd been looking forward to the promised outing with the prince for several weeks, but they were rarely free at the same time, and if they were, it was never for long enough. Also, the warm winter temperatures had taken a three-week plunge, leaving riding out of the question. Only in the last few days had the temperatures warmed up enough to allow for outdoor activities. "Of course I want to! Let me just change into a different tunic and I'll be ready to go."

Five minutes later, Caelin joined Liam as they walked to the stables, her blue mage's tunic replaced by a plain gray tunic she used for dirty work. On the way to the stable, Caelin watched Liam out of the corner of her eye and reflected on what she knew about the prince. He was the second prince, and second in line for the throne. He was seventeen, and would turn eighteen in a few weeks. Along with Aremin and Orrin, as soon as winter melted into spring, he would undergo the Ordeal of Knighthood. Liam was an expert in Shang tactics, as evidenced in the Midwinter Tournament, and had been named after Liam Ironarm, the dragon of Shang, who had saved King Jonathan's life on the day of his coronation. According to those that had known Liam Ironarm, Prince Liam shared several characteristics with the deceased Shang Dragon, including eyes that changed color depending on their owner's mood.

Underneath his usually calm and collected front, Caelin had learned that Liam was a very passionate person. He believed in the realm, chivalry, and in true love. He had an affinity for history, and was often in the library reading old manuscripts. He had no tolerance for the intrigues of court, and was most content when he was accomplishing something. His worst fear was to be helpless. He was a loyal friend, and prone to mischief when around certain noble boys and one royal sister.

"I have a surprise for you," Liam said once they'd reached the stable. He indicated a large stall, and Caelin peered inside with growing excitement at a black mare with a white star. She wasn't small, but she was exquisitely built, with long legs and delicate lines that spoke of many years of refined breeding. Even Caelin, who admittedly knew little about horses, could tell that the mare was a treasure. "This is Diamond. She was my first horse, a daughter of Alanna's old war stallion. She doesn't get out much, especially now that I'm away so much of the time, so I thought she'd be perfect for you to learn on. She's calm for a beginner, but once you're ready to move up, she'll move right on with you. She loves to jump, too, and I know that's what you wanted to learn." It was a small fantasy of Caelin's, but ever since she had seen a member of the Third Company take his gelding over a course of obstacles, she'd yearned to feel that flying sensation.

"Thank you Liam," Caelin said, walking over to the stall to pet the mare's nose gently. Liam helped her tack Diamond up, since she'd forgotten most of what she'd learned from Dom and the men of the King's Own. Liam had just started tacking up his own horse, a chestnut gelding, when a servant trotted into the barn.

"Your highness, Sir Raoul has need of you. He asked me to have you wait in the library for him."

Liam sighed in annoyance and ran a hand through his dark hair. "It figures, when we finally get some time alone something comes up." The scowl on his face did nothing to mar its handsomeness, but his eyes were black with frustration. "Do you want me to have Stefan untack Diamond, or do you want to ride by yourself? You could go around the stable yard a few times; I'm sure Diamond will be fine for you."

"I'll ride by myself for a while, I have nothing better to do. I'll see you later, I suppose," Caelin finally answered before Liam strode out of the stable. Even though she would have preferred to ride with Liam, she wasn't about to back down, despite a vague sense of worry niggling at the back of her mind.

Caelin led Diamond out of her stall and towards the stable yard. She was about to step outside when the mild worry developed into outright panic. Cold sweat dripped down her back, her muscles knotted, and worst of all, she had no reason why. The air had the same feeling of impeding disaster it had before a violent lightning storm. Without warning, what felt like a stifling black blanket dropped over her head. 

            _Blackness. Smothering, clinging, capturing. _

She reached for her Gift desperately, trying to repel the stifling cloud.

_            Grabbing, sucking, ripping. _

It was gone, as if she were completely Giftless.

_            Let me go!_

_            Fear. Pain. No escape._

            She knew no more.

            A splash of shockingly cold water brought Caelin out of the black pit she had been lost in for hours. The icy water did nothing to help her muscles, which after being locked in place for hours, were stiff and painful. She opened her eyes reluctantly, peeling them open little by little. The sunlight was excruciatingly brilliant after the extreme blackness. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light, she craned her head around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She was lying on rock-hard ground in front of a gradually dying campfire. On the horizon, the brilliant colors of the sunrise were rapidly diminishing, leaving in their place a solid gray wall.  All around her, soldiers packed food and tents into bags, which were then stowed on the backs of various horses. Every movement was quiet and orderly, the result of an impeccably ordered schedule and firm discipline.

            "So, you're awake. Here." Caelin blinked as a man who had previously gone un-seen thrust a loaf of bread at her. She didn't have time to worry if the bread was poisoned or not; she was ravenously hungry and her stomach was clenching repeatedly from going so long without food. Caelin ate the entire loaf before her she began to feel satisfied. She wiped the crumbs from her face and looked at the man closely. He was probably around forty, in good shape for someone of middling age, and had the shrewd, cautious face of a first class warrior. His steel-gray hair was short, cropped close in a fighter's cut, and his face and arms were lined with old scars, although his muscles were still strong and powerful looking. Although every man in the group was well equipped with weapons and armor, the man in front of her had the best of both. He had to be the leader.

            "Who are you?" She asked, trying her best not to curl up in fear. One of her first lessons had been, _'show no fear. If the enemy sees that you're helpless, they'll exploit you. Even if you're shaking in your boots, don't give them the satisfaction of knowing it!'_

            "We're a mercenary troop, hired to capture a potentially dangerous mage." The man's face eased and his eyes twinkled, improving his looks a hundred-fold. "Although I have to say, we've never been paid so much for such an easy kidnapping job."

            _It wouldn't have been so easy if you hadn't leached my Gift_, Caelin thought angrily, disliking the humor in the man's voice. A swift check assured her that although she should have replenished her magic from its theft earlier, not a drop was left. Something was draining her Gift as soon as it tried to replenish itself.

            "Who hired you?"

            "Do you really think I'll tell you if you ask politely? Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough."

            "Where are we going?" Asking annoying questions was probably not the best way to get on the captain's good side, but she had to come up with some way to stall for time; that was the second rule they had learned.

            _'It doesn't do us, your rescuers, any good if the enemy gets away from us quickly. Fake being sick or hurt, ask annoying questions, pretend to be impossibly clumsy, I don't really care what you do, as long as you make them fight for every second on the road with you.'_

            A smile spread broadly across the man's face. "Someone's taught you well, youngling, but I won't stand for delays. As soon as the camp's packed, we leave. And don't pretend you're injured or somesuch, I can tell you're as fit as any youngling."

            _Perhaps you'd like being knocked in the head and suffocated, and then we can see how you're feeling._

             "Can I at least know who my kidnapper is?" Caelin finally asked, trying her best not to scowl sullenly. She definitely didn't want to get on this man's bad side; he would make a dangerous enemy. 

            "Learmon Birdseye at your service, but you can just call me Lear." He paused when one of the men whistled. "All right then. Up you go." Without a word of warning, Lear grabbed Caelin and swung her up onto the back of a chestnut gelding with a mean eye, ignoring her indignant squeak of protest. "Don't you try to get this lad to go anywhere without the rest of the troop, or he'll throw you off and break both your arms. He's trained well."

            Caelin nodded her agreement and watched as the men of the troop mounted their horses and set a fast pace. True to Lear's words, her horse kept close to the other horses, and pinned his ears in warning if she tried to turn him away from the group. Luckily, the horse had a smooth and easy gait; otherwise she would have fallen off long ago. As the troop rode on, she realized that they were riding in uninhabited land. Half way through the day, they passed by a small hut, but it was completely deserted, and had obviously already been robbed of all useful possessions. Caelin wished she had been able to go on some of the page's outings; then at least she would have some idea where she was. Her lack of knowledge of the Tortallan countryside did her no help in the situation she found herself in.

            The troop didn't stop for the remainder of the day. When they finally pulled to a halt during the last minutes of the day, Caelin sagged on top of her horse. Riding took enough out of her normally without trying to work with an integral part of herself missing. Throughout the day, she had become aware of the fact that the constant draining of her Gift was having an adverse affect on her. Caelin was grateful when one of the men helped her dismount and gave her a chunk of bread and water. Except for the guards placed in carefully spaced intervals around the camp, as soon as they had eaten, the men slipped into their bedrolls and fell asleep. There was none of the joking and camaraderie in Lear's troop that had existed in Dom's company. These men were here for one reason, and one reason only; money.

            Caelin envied them. Despite her fatigue and the monstrous lump on her head, she couldn't sleep. She had forgotten what it was like to sleep on the ground with only a small pad to take away the hardness of packed earth and rocks. Even if she could have gotten comfortable, loneliness and worry preyed on her mind. Why had these men been sent to capture her, a barely trained mage with no political standing? If Tortall's enemies (she assumed whoever Lear's troop was working for was an enemy of Tortall, since she didn't have any enemies to speak of) wanted to strike a blow magically against the kingdom, they would have done much better stealing away Daine or Numair, who were key players in the defense of the kingdom. Her Gift was untrained and volatile, just as likely to turn on its owner than it was its target.

            Caelin shifted onto her back and looked up at the cloudy sky. The air felt heavy and damp, fog swirling to cover the area around the camp. Even the light of the stars and moon were blocked out, swathing the camp in complete darkness. She couldn't tell without her magic, but she suspected that the dismal conditions were the work of a weather mage. The fog probably had magical dampeners to handicap anyone with the Gift. Caelin remembered fondly the lesson Numair had spent explaining dampeners and their uses; he had used the siege of Pirate's Swoop as an example. Caelin sighed. More than ever, she wished her last lesson with Numair had gone better. If she never saw him again, she wished her last experience with the kind mage had been a more pleasant one.

            Despite the many worries Caelin had flitting through her head, eventually she slipped into a disturbed sleep, filled with vague images and voices she didn't recognize. When one of the soldiers shook her awake in the morning, she felt even worse than she had the morning before. Even food and water did little to shake the sense of exhaustion that permeated her bones. After only a few hours of riding, Caelin was shaking out of sheer weariness. Lear didn't seem to notice that Caelin was slumping in her horse's saddle; either that, or he didn't care. The troop continued its rapid pace until sunset again.

            That evening, Caelin tried to refuse the food, and ended up having her nose held until she opened her mouth to eat. Her sleep was again filled with troubling images. The same routine persisted for several days, and Caelin began to lose track of exactly how long the troop had been on the road. It must have been about a week, but her brain felt foggy and useless. Her strength couldn't return with her Gift still being sucked out of her the minute it returned, and now she was reduced to being tied onto her horse and fed by hand.

            Worse than the physical and mental exhaustion was the feeling of hopelessness that Caelin couldn't squelch. No matter how hard anyone searched, they would never find her because of the dampeners surrounding the troop. Even if someone happened to wander right into their path (which was unlikely, sense Lear kept to broken, wild territory and had a sixth sense when it came to avoiding unwanted visitors) they would be dead before they had time to react. Resistance was futile, and that knowledge broke Caelin almost as much as the poisonous leeching of her magic.

            On the night that marked her sixth in captivity (although she didn't know it), when all of the men except the guards had fallen asleep, something heavy dropped down from the clouded sky and landed on her stomach. Feathers brushed her face, talons gripped her arms, and a familiar beak grabbed her ear. "Baron?" She croaked, wondering if she was having another dream-delusion. They were common enough. "What are you doing here?"

            The beak clamped down on her ear like an iron pincer, warning her to remain quiet. _Did you really think I wouldn't be able to find you?_ A voice whispered in her mind, strange and familiar at the same time. _Now that I know where you are, I can tell the others. They should be able to reach you by dawn. Be ready._

            Caelin had no time to ponder the fact that Baron, who she sometimes forgot was even an immortal, had just spoken to her. He tightened his beak once more on her ear before taking off as quickly as he had arrived. The throbbing in her ear convinced her clouded mind that it hadn't dreamed up the visit. Baron's reassurance helped Caelin get the first bit of real sleep she had gotten since her captivity, and re-kindled the spirit that had been hiding since her capture.

            It was mid-afternoon before anything happened, but when it did, events moved rapidly. In her weakened state, everything seemed to merge into a series of blurry scenes out of a picture book.       

            A cry. A magnificent bird from tales, sweeping down and sowing confusion.

            Fog rolling, mist lifting. The sun.

            Cries. The crash of metal upon metal. Red.

            Cursing. Surrender.

            Out of the mists of her vision, Caelin recognized Daine and Numair coming over to the horse. Perhaps it was her delirious state, or maybe the realization that rescue had finally arrived, but the only words Caelin could think of as her rescuers approached were, "Why didn't you tell me Baron could talk?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Caelin reeled from her perch on the horse's back and fainted.

            "Stop that," Caelin muttered, discreetly sucking on her thumb, which was a bright, cherry red and swelling rapidly from being on the receiving end of Baron's temper. Luckily, everyone in the large conference room was too busy looking serious and talking to their companions to notice.

            _I'm bored. If I had known recruiting help for your rescue would entail so much dithering by the old ones, I would have taken care of it myself._

"You're just a spoiled bird, that's what you are," Caelin muttered back, still not used to the concept of talking out loud to a bird that spoke only in her mind, "and you have an entirely inflated opinion of your own self worth." Baron huffed in indignation and turned his tail feathers to her, trying his best to ignore her. Normally, Caelin would have tried to jolly him back into a good mood, but she had too many worries on her mind.

            It had been two weeks since her rescue from Lear's mercenary troop, two weeks of gradual recovery and trying to understand exactly what had happened to her. Now, some of the most important people in the realm had been called together to discuss what the kidnapping meant to Tortall. Caelin didn't understand why such a big deal was being made over her, especially since she had recovered from the ordeal well enough, but every one of her protests had gone unheard. As soon as Duke Baird had pronounced her fit enough to withstand a long conference, the king had called for a meeting. 

            _The least he could have done was arrive to his own meeting on time_, Caelin thought acerbically, shifting in her cushioned seat in a futile effort to get comfortable. To keep from falling asleep, she surveyed the room and its occupants. Sitting at the main table were the older knights and officials, including Dukes Baird and Gareth the Elder, Gareth the Younger, Sir Myles of Olau, Sir Alanna of Trebond, Sir Raoul of Goldenlake, and a few others Caelin didn't recognize. Sir Keladry of Mindelan sat with Sir Cleon of Kennan in the far corner, looking almost as out of place in the meeting as Caelin felt. Caelin had an idea that the knight would rather be out doing something than sitting in a meeting.

            Numair and Daine were off in another corner with Lindhall Reed, whispering quietly together. Every once in a while, their eyes would flash up in her direction, and she pretended not to notice that they were talking about her. Their emotional shows of relief when she woke up after the leeching spell had been disabled, especially Numair's, had eased Caelin's worries more than they would ever know. Now, if only they would tell her _why_ they were so worried, she would feel much better.

            She and Baron occupied the third corner, sitting quietly and trying not to attract attention.

            "Sorry I'm late, everyone," a deep voice called out, drawing Caelin's attention to the door. King Jonathan walked into the room wearing a frazzled expression on his face and immediately sat in the chair left open for him with a sigh. His shoulders slumped dejectedly and his blue eyes were filled with worry. Caelin wondered where Queen Thayet was, but her question was soon answered as he continued, "I apologize for the wait, but I was helping Thayet organize the third rider group. There's been another one."

            Indistinct murmurs swept across the room, and although Caelin didn't know what had happened, she gathered from the looks of distress on the faces around her that it wasn't something good. "We just got the messenger from the village a few minutes ago. Luckily, only a few casualties this time, just the direct family, thank Mithros. Thayet is taking the troop to see if she can find any traces."

            "And why would they leave traces? When have these bloodsuckers ever left any convenient traces for us to follow?" Sir Raoul demanded pointedly.

            "Well, you all know Thayet, she's determined this time will be different. It would have been more trouble than it's worth to try and keep her here when her mind's set on something. So. Let's get down to business. For those of you that are just arriving from patrol," the king inclined his head towards Keladry, Cleon, Alanna, and some of the other knights, "we've begun to notice a pattern in these kidnappings." Caelin stifled a gasp. She wasn't the only one that had been taken?

            "At first, the popular theory was that one of the slaveholding countries was hiring mercenaries to capture children to be used as slaves; remember, in the south, people of our descent are considered rare and valuable merchandise. It seemed unlikely, since the slaveholding countries have never gone to such extreme means to acquire slaves, particularly with magic. Gary's made a few inquiries about the stolen children, so he knows more than I do. Gary?"

            Gareth the Younger stood up and cleared his throat. Caelin had never met the Prime Minister, but he was a tall, middle-aged man with chestnut hair that was only beginning to gray and a face that had laughter lines throughout. Now, though, he was perfectly solemn as he said, "There are a few details that are common in all of the children that have been stolen. One, they're all relatively poor and of low social status. Two, most have no family or only a few living family members. Three, every single child that has been stolen has the Gift."

            Surprised murmurs broke out around the room as everyone tried to process the new information. Caelin felt a grim sort of hatred to whoever was going around stealing children. She had no doubt that not every kidnapping troop was as decent as Lear's mercenaries, and whispered a silent prayer to the Mother to protect the missing children. "What about Caelin?" Numair was now standing, his face white, which made his mane of black hair stand out all the more. "She certainly isn't low on the social status anymore, and there were obviously quite a few people that noticed her absence. Why did they try to take her?"

            "It's my opinion that the slaughter at Harowyn was the first documented attempt by our enemy to steal a young person with the Gift. Caelin, did it seem to you as if the soldiers were saving you for some other purpose?"

            Caelin cleared her throat as the king turned his eyes to her, and hoped her voice would remain natural. "Well, your highness, at the time I thought the soldiers just forgot about me, but I don't see how they could have, since I was being held by a large group of them. Maybe they were saving me for something else. But why did they try to come get me again? It seems to me that stealing anyone from the palace is a risk."

            "Probably because magically speaking, you're the most talented youngling in the kingdom," Numair pointed out bluntly. "Whoever is gathering up our Gifted young ones knows that you have the most power, so he sent a more experienced troop of soldiers to try and nab you, and used advanced magic to throw the balance in their favor. They knew the risk of such an attempt, but obviously believed it you were a worthy cause."

            "Exactly," Jonathan concurred as Caelin tried to organize her thoughts. "There are two questions that need to be asked, which is why you are all here. First, we need to know who our enemy is, and second, we need to know why they seem to have a need for so much magical power. It can't be a good reason, whatever it is."

            "I agree," Alanna said, standing up. Although the King's Champion was short, the force of her presence more than made up for her lack of height. "This is unacceptable, and needs to be dealt with as soon as possible. We should consider who our enemies are, and what they stand to gain from stealing our children."

            "The second question is easy to answer; whoever it is seems to be in dire need of magical power, so they take children with the Gift and steal it away from them. Bastards." Daine's eyes were furious, and Caelin wondered if she was remembering the state of near-death Caelin had been in when Daine had found her young friend.

            "So back to the first question. Who are Tortall's enemies?" Jon counted the list out on his fingers. "The rebel groups in Carthak. Scanra. Tusaine is a wild card; we'll know more once the question of King Ain's succession is solved. The Copper Isles-oh drat, I forgot about them. With everything that's been going on, I forgot that the ambassadors would be arriving soon." A panicked look appeared on the king's face. "We need to start preparing for their arrival!"

            Almost everyone in the room laughed, and Gary said, "Jon, as much as I know you hate to think so, the palace does not revolve around you. The servants have been preparing for the visit for weeks; months, even. Thayet certainly has been organizing things. All you need to do is look imposing when they arrive and say something polite. You can handle that, right?"

            The king laughed and nodded. However, his expression soon sobered. "Most of you will be staying here for the arrival of the Copper Isles party. What I want you to do is instruct all of the other knights to keep an ear out for information. Tell them to look into every kidnapping case, even if it turns out to be unrelated. Myles, I trust you and George will be very busy soon. Be careful. Daine, Numair, keep me informed if you sense any unnatural magic in the kingdom. For the rest of us, who will all soon be knee-deep in diplomatic manure, we'll just have to try and come up with a few theories based on what we know. Now go on, I'm sure you all have things you need to do."

            The men and women in the meeting room dispersed rapidly, most probably headed off to begin working on their assigned tasks. The king remained sitting at the desk, a deeply worried expression on his face. Caelin paused, gathered her courage and her phoenix, and headed over to the king. When it appeared that he didn't notice her, Caelin cleared her throat. Immediately the dark head looked up and the king smiled tiredly. "Caelin, I didn't even notice you there. How are you feeling? Any side affects from your ordeal?"

            "No, highness," she replied, sitting down when he motioned to the seat across the table from him. "I think I'm almost completely back to normal. Numair broke the leaching spell, so my magic is completely back, which is really why I felt so horrible in the first place. He says I can start lessons tomorrow. But that's not why I'm here. I was just wondering, since no one told me before, if Lear and his men are still alive. I wasn't really conscious when the battle took place."

            The king frowned, but he listened to Caelin's question without interruption. "Actually, he is. Some of the men were killed in the fighting, but most of them were only wounded, including the captain. Why?"

            "Has anyone questioned him to find out who hired him? It might give us some clues."

            "Yes, it was one of the first things we did once we got back to the palace. However, the good captain didn't seem inclined to tell us anything, and I will never use torture on anyone to get information."

            "Did you try offering money for your information? Lear is a mercenary, your highness, and if you paid him well enough, I think he would give information. That's the only reason he was involved in this whole mess anyway. He's not really loyal to whoever hired him, I could tell from the way he talked to me."

            The king was quiet for a moment as he thought about her words, and then he smiled at Caelin, dropping ten years from his face. "You know, I didn't even think about that. It just might work. Now if that's all, I should really get back to signing papers." He sighed again, and said in a hopelessly pathetic voice, "I really hate paperwork."

            Caelin smiled at her king, bowed, and exited the meeting room. Even though nothing much had been done to solve the mystery of the kidnappings, investigations were moving forward, and Caelin knew that eventually a solution would be found.


	8. Ordeals and Preparations

Author's Note: Thanks to Clair-a-net and Lianne-alianne for the reviews. To clear up any confusion, this story was started before _Lady Knight_ came out, and finished before _Trickster's Choice_ was released, so all information about the Copper Isles and other things cleared up in those books won't be found in this story. Please review, the next chapter should be up soon. 

**Chapter Seven: Ordeals and Preparations**

"So there we were, covered in mud, manure, and snow, and the Tyran ambassadors were waiting to meet us. They couldn't start the meal without us, because of course that would have been incredibly rude, but they had already been waiting for over an hour! Aremin and Orrin, of course, thought the situation was most entertaining, considering it was _their_ fault in the first place, but I'll tell you, I thought Master Oakbridge was going to have a heart attack. There was no way we had time to change, so he wiped our faces and sent us into the dining hall reeking of the stable and looking like wild barbarians. You should have seen the faces of the ambassadors when we came in; I thought they were going to pass out from the stench. And then you have our parents, who were both trying to look disapproving, but they just kept laughing. One of them would look at us, back at the other, and then they'd both start cracking up. I'm surprised the Tyrans didn't end trade negotiations right then and there."

Caelin's shoulders shook with laughter as Lianne finished her anecdote and wondered when the last time was she had laughed so hard. Tears were streaming down Lianne's face as she recounted the story, and she couldn't stop laughing either. Finally Caelin managed to gain control over the giggles and flipped onto her back on Lianne's bed, staring up at the ceiling. The week of Midwinter Celebration began the next day, which meant that for once, she had no assignments to complete for her classes. However, despite Lianne's attempts to keep her spirits up, Caelin could feel worry gnawing at the pit of her stomach. The next day, on his eighteenth birthday, Liam was scheduled to begin the vigil for his Ordeal of Knighthood.

It didn't make any sense, she kept telling herself sternly, that she should be so worried about someone she had known for so little time. If anything, Lianne should have been the one pacing and biting her fingernails, yet the princess was unnaturally calm. If she felt any terror for the upcoming day, she was hiding it behind an impenetrable mask of levity. Caelin, however, was not hiding her anxiety well, and no matter how many entertaining stories Lianne told, Caelin's mind would loop back to the next day, when Liam would face the ominous chamber.

"You know, if you aren't careful, your face is going to freeze like that," Lianne said after the silence stretched for too long in the small room. "I keep telling you, he's going to be fine. He's been training his entire life to be a knight, and there's never been any indication that he won't pass the Ordeal easily. Even my _mother_ isn't worried, and she was half crazy when Roald had his Ordeal. You have to understand; Roald's capable, of course, but he was always a better mage and ruler than he was a fighter. Liam's just the opposite. He was practically _born_ with a sword in his hand. He'll be fine." She paused, and then grinned. "You know he would make fun of you terribly if he knew how worried you are."

"I know," Caelin groaned, rubbing her eyes with her hands, "I know. I just can't stop worrying! I don't understand it. I mean, Aremin and Orrin are taking theirs right after him, and I'm not particularly worried about them. Of course I am worried, but nothing more than general anxiety. I'm practically ready to keel over from stressing about Liam. Why am I doing this?" She complained, not really expecting an answer. Of course, with Lianne, she should have known better.

"Why do you _think_ you're worried so much? You like him."

"Yes, and so do you, and Orrin, and Aremin," Caelin replied sarcastically, pretending not to understand Lianne's point.

"Don't be thick, Caelin," Lianne warned, tucking a ringlet of black hair behind her ear as she moved from a comfy chair in the corner of the room over to the bed. "It's rather obvious that you like Liam. And _not_ just as a friend, so don't give me that excuse. Ever since that first night at the ball, you two have been practically inseparable."

Caelin frowned and cursed Lianne for being so perceptive. She wondered if the rest of the palace knew. She could just imagine how people were laughing at her behind her back, the commoner who followed the prince around like a lovesick puppy. Caelin's face burned a bright red.

"Oh dear, now I've done it. I didn't mean to make you upset, you know," Lianne reassured Caelin, putting her hand on top of one of Caelin's. "You don't have to admit to anything if you don't want to." She paused, and grinned brightly. "Actually, there's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while, I just haven't had the nerve to yet. It's pretty important, and I need your advice."

"Really?" Caelin asked, some of her consternation forgotten as she looked into Lianne's bright eyes. "What is it?"

"I think…" Lianne was about to respond when suddenly the door popped open and three large male shapes came piling into the room. First came Aremin, tall, lithe, blond, and exuberant as he made a grand entrance by flopping onto the carpet in the middle of the floor. Next Orrin, slightly shorter and stockier, but no less attractive, his brown hair sticking up everywhere from a recent wash, entered the room, kicked Aremin as he walked over, and sat down gingerly on the bed next to Lianne, giving her a small smile.

Finally, Liam bypassed Aremin's sprawled form and settled himself gracefully into the chair Lianne had recently unoccupied. Caelin's eyes were immediately drawn to his eyes, which were dark gray with worry, and his face, which was pale and drawn, despite the smile that was plastered on. From the looks of it, Liam was determined to have a fun night with his friends, despite the fact that his Ordeal started the next day.

"Oh, would you all like to come in?" Lianne asked sarcastically, but there was an affectionate smile on her lips, which transformed her already lovely profile into something so beautiful it almost hurt to look at. "How was your last day of official squire classes?"

"Boring," Aremin stated with a groan, banging his head on the floor in emphasis. "A lot of lectures on a knight's duty to his king, his family, his people, and on, and on, and on…as if they haven't spent enough years drilling this stuff into our heads."

"Just an excuse to keep us from doing anything fun before Midwinter Festival starts," Orrin added with a yawn as he succumbed to his weariness and rested his head on the bed next to Lianne's leg. A strange look flashed across the princess's face, so swiftly that Caelin almost thought she had imagined it.

She brushed it off as a stomach twinge or chill as Orrin continued in a less jovial tone, "I can't believe this is our last night as official squires. No more lessons, no more armor to clean, no more getting knocked off our horses jousting…it all changes."

"You'll still be cleaning armor, and don't worry, I'll keep knocking you off your horse, Orrin," Liam assured his friend, but his voice was strained and a silence fell over the room. In that moment, the true meaning of the following day sank in. There would be no more gatherings in Lianne's room while they worked on assignments, no more gossiping about their teachers and fellow students, no more making fun of Master Oakbridge, no more time spent laughing at absolutely nothing and finding it the most amusing subject in the world.

"Well, this is a cheerful gathering, isn't it," Lianne finally said with a slight tremble in her voice. "Just look at us. It's not like we won't see each other anymore. You'll have a few weeks until you get sent out on patrol, and you'll be back every few months to visit. Tomorrow is Liam's birthday. We should be celebrating."

"Yes, by re-telling all of the embarrassing stories we can think of. For Caelin's benefit, of course."

Caelin laughed along with the others as Liam blushed red and threatened Aremin loudly, but his statement only served to remind her of just how little she knew about her friends. She had only known them for a matter of months, whereas they had all been friends since they were small children, and now they were leaving. Even though Lianne would still be there, with Aremin and Orrin's departure, she was losing her protectors, her friends, and her brothers. And Liam. Thinking about _him_ leaving left a deep pit in her stomach and a lump in her throat.

Somehow, with the innate sense he always had that let him know whenever Caelin was feeling upset, Liam stood up abruptly and said, "I'm still feeling parched from practice. Caelin, feel like taking a walk to the kitchens?"

Caelin held in a sigh of relief and stood up as well, doing her best to ignore the knowing looks her other friends were shooting at her. "Of course." As she walked over to the door, she aimed a kick at Aremin's ribs, sending him into increasing fits of hysteria.

Liam's mouth quirked into a half smile as Caelin shut the door behind her and they started walking down the quiet hall. "I will miss them, even if I do want to kill them half the time. More than half the time with Aremin," he continued as an afterthought. "You've been very quiet about all this, but I can tell you're not happy."

"And how do you know that?" She demanded as they turned a corner and headed randomly down the hall, not in any direction that would lead to the kitchens.

"Dragon eyes," Liam replied with a wink. "Even though you aren't a chatterbox normally, you've been quiet even for you these past few days. You hardly laugh at Aremin's jokes, and he can always make you smile. Even Baron's worried."

"Baron?" Caelin repeated in surprise, completely shocked. "How would you know what Baron thinks?"

"He talked to me a few days ago," Liam answered, his now green eyes appearing slightly guilty.

"When were you around him a few days ago to even see him? He's done nothing but sleep in my room the past few days. Lazy bird." She paused, and then said indignantly, "And since when does Baron talk to you? That's a new development." Irrationally, Caelin felt slightly put out that her special friend would talk to anyone but her, even if Liam was, assuredly, a special case.

"Well, he had to talk to a lot of us when we went to rescue you from the mercenaries. There was no other way to find you." Liam's face darkened with remembered anger over her abduction. "And…" here he paused, and seemed to be slightly embarrassed. "Do you remember a few days ago you gave Lianne the key to your room so she could grab your books? Well, I was with her at the time, so I was in your room while she found the books. You're a very messy person, you know," Liam teased.

"I forgot to clean up that day," Caelin muttered in utter mortification as she realized that Liam had been in her room the one day it looked like a family of griffons had nested in it. Not to mention the unpleasant prospect that Baron had told Liam and Lianne far more about Caelin's feelings for Liam than simply her worry about his Ordeal. That was the problem with having an opinionated immortal mind bonded to her. He had a very clear idea on the way her life should be run, especially her personal relationships.

"Anyway, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about that earlier. There just didn't seem to be a good time to bring it up. So why are you worried? You don't trust in my skills?"

"It's not that," Caelin responded, wondering how to put her fears into logical words. "It's just…going into a room that's magically designed to bring out your worst nightmares? It sounds completely crazy to me. I know you can fight men. I saw you in the tournament. But how can anyone fight his worst fears? It's impossible."

"Not impossible," Liam contradicted firmly as he nodded to a servant in bright livery passing by. "Extremely difficult, dangerous, and rather terrifying, but not impossible. Thousands of knights before me have gone into that room, faced their fears, and come out better men than they were before. Or women," he added with a grin.

"What about the countless hundreds that have failed? The ones who are ruined for life, or worse, dead?" Most people tried not to think about the squires who never came out of the chamber alive. It was almost considered blasphemy to talk of such matters with the squires preparing to take the ordeal, but Caelin didn't care.

"You don't understand. _I_ need to believe that its possible to walk into that chamber and face my fears, otherwise I don't have a chance. I think the chamber mostly preys on people who fear _it_ more than they fear their own fears. Does that make any sense? If I walk in there ready to face whatever if throws at me, then that's the worst fear I could have, already taken care of."

"I suppose that makes some amount of sense," Caelin agreed, but her heart still felt heavy. _Heart? When did my heart get involved in any of this?_ "But what about me? How do I stop worrying so much? I mean, even if you aren't scared, that doesn't help me any. I just…" she gulped and gazed stubbornly at the floor as the next words tumbled out of her mouth. "I'm afraid to lose you."

"Hey," Liam said gently, stopping Caelin with a slight touch on her arm that sent tingles racing up and down it. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. Tomorrow I'm going to walk into that chamber, deal with anything it throws at me, come out, and we're all going to celebrate my birthday. You do have a present for me, don't you?"

Caelin laughed at the expression of childlike hope on his face, and although her worry wasn't completely gone, she felt as if a large weight had been pulled off her chest. "Of course I got you a present. What do you take me for?"

"Is it big?"

"Hmmm…nope, not too big."

"Is it heavy?"

"No, pretty light, actually."

"Hard or soft?"

"I'm not telling you anything! You'll just have to wait for two days," she admonished in exasperation as they arrived back at Lianne's room.

"If I must." Before Caelin could open the door to the room, Liam caught her wrist once more, his eyes suddenly serious. "Wait, there's one more thing I needed to ask you. Would you be willing to hold vigil for me tomorrow, while I'm in the chamber? Not the entire night, of course, just the following morning while I'm actually in the chamber. Lianne, Aremin, Orrin, and my family will all be there. It would mean a lot if you were there too."

"But…usually only family and the closest friends wait outside the chamber."

"Yes, silly. What do you think I consider you? It would make me feel better knowing you were waiting out there for when I finish."

Caelin's stomach fluttered as much from Liam's heartfelt words as from her hand, which was now firmly ensconced in his. "Of course I'll wait," she whispered, having nothing else to say.

Liam smiled in answer and opened the door to the room, causing the conversation going on inside to end immediately. Three pairs of eyes noticed the fact that her hand was still entwined with Liam's, but for once, no one said a word.

"_After properly centering your breathing, you should be able to look inside yourself, with your inner eye, and see to the source of your power. Once there, slowly weave a wall around the source of your Gift. With each layer, inbed the idea of the persona you are trying to create. If you want to seem more powerful than you are, weave the idea into the shield. If you are trying to go unnoticed, that can also be woven into the shield. The most important aspect of the magical glamour is making sure whenever you tamper with the fake aura, you do it in a slightly different spot. If all the tampering is done in one part of the shield, a powerful mage will see through and realize they are being played false._ Yes, yes, yes. This is what I wanted to find!" Caelin crowed in triumph as she realized her nightlong search was finally at an end. To try and keep her mind off of Liam's ordeal, she had spent the night looking through some of Numair's books in search of a spell he'd mentioned once in passing, a spell to confuse even the most powerful of mages.

_If I'd had this at Harowyn, they never would have come after me. _Of course, she hadn't had the focus or the skill to perform such a complicated glamour, but if she ever found herself in a situation where she needed to be unremarkable, the shield spell would be welcome.

A knock at Caelin's door interrupted her thoughts, and an icy hand punched through her stomach. "Caelin? It's time," Lianne's muffled voice came through the door. Caelin suddenly wished she had slept some during the night, as her eyes were raw, like they had been rubbed with sandpaper. She swung her legs off the bed, walked over to the door and opened it, revealing Lianne, looking pale and drawn.

"You didn't sleep either," Caelin accused the princess as she closed the door to her room.

"For about an hour," she confessed. "Orrin stayed with me for a while, after you left to go read that infernal book of yours, but I couldn't sleep once he left. Kept having nightmares and the like. Although I did have one singularly strange dream in which one of your spells went awry and turned you blue. You kept running around the palace with no clothes shrieking at the top of your lungs." She paused, and said evilly, "And I do believe my brother was watching you."

"Lianne!" Caelin admonished, blushing faintly. "Your mind works in very strange ways." Then, suddenly, a though struck. "So Orrin stayed with you last night? All alone? What about his idiot twin?" There was no need to say whom she really meant. Aremin was never far from his cousin and best friend.

"Aremin left. Orrin left. Orrin just decided to come back for some quality time." Lianne seemed distinctly uncomfortable, and suddenly Caelin was reminded of their close proximity the other night, and a few other incidents that had seemed strange before, but suddenly made much more sense.

As the two girls headed outside and to the chapel, where Liam would be finishing his vigil and preparing to enter the Chamber, Caelin confronted Lianne. "I knew something was going on between you two! Are you two…you know? How long has this been going on?"

"No! Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever. I am a princess, as much as I try to forget sometimes. We have to be more careful about things like this. If I ever have to make a marriage of state, if I'm not a virgin, it would be a terrible insult to my prospective husband."

"That's not fair. I know Liam and Jassom, when he grows up a little, aren't expected to stay away from women until they get married." And Caelin refused to let her mind consider those possibilities…

"I won't say its fair, but its true."

"But you don't deny that something is happening, do you?" Caelin pressed, feeling terrible for the situation her friend was in.

"No. It's strange. I was in love with Aremin for three years, from when I was thirteen all the way until I turned sixteen. I was so certain I was going to marry him and live happily ever after. Liam teased me, but he never told Aremin, so I think he's still happily oblivious. Then, last year, I started spending more time with Orrin, especially if Liam and Aremin were busy with their squire duties. Orrin was never quite as busy as they were, it seemed. Now I wonder if they weren't just playing at matchmaking. He told me he likes me as more than just his friend and his princess, and…that's where things stand."

Caelin was surprised by Lianne's admission, but after considering the idea, she realized that Orrin and Lianne did have a lot in common. A similar sarcastic sense of humor, a tendency to hate court functions, and dislike for everything having to do with rank and position made them perfect for each other. Not to mention they had years of shared memories and experiences.

Caelin would have said more, but her throat dried when they came upon the Chapel of the Ordeal. The sun was just beginning to rise over the hills around Corus visible through the tall windows of the Chapel. The light of the rising sun stained the Chapel a crimson red. An unlucky color, she thought unhappily as Lianne took her hand and led her into the Chapel. Already the king, the queen, Prince Roald, Liam's other relatives, and friends were waiting. Liam himself was kneeling in front of the door to the Chamber, dressed in simple white garments, his head bowed in-what? Was he contemplating the Ordeal he was about to undertake, or was his mind wandering to some long forgotten event in his life?

Just as she and Lianne arrived to stand next to the king and queen, two priests of Mithros walked over to Liam and touched him gently on the shoulder. Liam jerked and stood up slowly, his legs stiff from the long night on the stone ground of the Chapel. His face was wan, his eyes almost black; Caelin had the insane urge to run over and drag him out of the Chapel and into the sunlight, but Lianne's death grip on her hand prevented her from giving into the urge. If she did, she would destroy any chance of Liam becoming a knight, and probably be arrested for treason against the crown.

One of the priests held open the door to the Chamber, while the other ushered Liam into the yawning black maw of the room. Caelin closed her eyes and whispered a prayer to both the Goddess and Mithros, the god of warriors, to keep an eye on her prince. The crowd gathered in the chapel was deathly silent, all eyes trained on the door to the Chamber. There was no telling how long an Ordeal would take. Some lasted for minutes, others for hours, and sometimes an entire day. The only thing that was agreed upon by all who stepped into the chamber was that every would-be knight was tested to the limit of his or her skills and endurance, and often far beyond.

There was nothing to do now but wait. The expectant silence effectively kept Caelin glued to her position next to Lianne, but she desperately wished she could shift her weight and walk around, but she dared not tarnish the solemnity of the moment. Instead, she started counting the rectangular stones of the walls of the chapel. There were a lot of stones. By the time she reached 1,000, her back had tightened beyond redemption and her feet were aching. Almost two hours had passed with not a sound from the Chamber. That was good news, of course, because if Liam uttered one word he immediately failed his Ordeal, but the quiet in the room was driving Caelin to distraction. She had an insane urge to scream as loud as she could, just to break the intolerable quiet.

Just as Caelin was about to well and truly lose her mind, the Chamber door swung open slowly to reveal Liam, his hair standing wildly on end, his face scratched, and his arm hanging limply by his side. There was a tortured appearance to his face that had never been there before, and his eyes were black and dead in his head. Whatever the Chamber had thrown at Liam, it had been awful.

The first people to meet Liam were the king and queen, relief evident on their faces as they helped support their son. Then Roald and Lianne approached, murmuring words of congratulations. Liam smiled weakly at this family, but Caelin could tell that he just wanted to sleep, probably for a week. The Mithros priests scolded the remainder of the crowd, obviously wanting to regain control of their Chapel, and people slowly began to exit. Caelin was one of the last to leave, trying to fight down her jealousy of Lianne, who was allowed to stay with Liam while she was pushed aside.

Hours later, in the late hours of the night, Caelin viciously threw lightning bolts at the wall in her room, not sure where all her anger was coming from, but knowing she needed to get it out of her system. _If only Numair could see me now,_ she thought ironically. Baron had long since given up trying to calm her down and exited the room, muttering about crazy human females as he went. She was so involved in her magic that she almost completely missed the gentle knock at her door. Cursing her stupidity, Caelin rushed over and opened the door to reveal Liam leaning heavily against the wall. "What are you doing here?" she asked in shock, not believing her eyes. "You're supposed to be sleeping. Everyone said you would sleep for days."

"Apparently everyone was wrong," Liam joked wearily. "Can I come in, or would you rather continue your argument with the wall on your own?"

Caelin was too happy to see Liam to be embarrassed about his remark and opened the door wider so that he could come in. Almost immediately the tall prince slipped to the ground and leaned up against the wall that had taken so much abuse. "Still warm. You must have been going at this for hours. Anger management problems?"

"I think I would have preferred you passed out," Caelin shot back. "Why are you awake, anyway? You're exhausted."

"Well, I slept for about five hours, woke up absolutely starving, ate something, and realized I didn't see you at all when I finished my Ordeal, so here I am. Where were you? I wanted you to be there." There was a tone of resentment and hurt in Liam's words as he waited expectantly for her answer.

"I was there! The priests kicked everyone out of the Chapel right away, except for your family. I couldn't get near you in all the commotion. I thought you forgot about _me_!"

"Does that explain the nearly charred wall?" Liam asked with a grin, realizing that both their misconceptions were wrong.

"Maybe," Caelin responded shiftily, "but I wouldn't want to give you an inflated ego by saying yes."

"And I wouldn't want to raise your ire by pressing the point," Liam concluded with a smile.

Caelin laughed, and then sobered quickly when she noticed the bandage wrapped around Liam's arm. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"Burned," Liam responded succinctly, because he wasn't allowed to speak to anyone about his Ordeal. "Lianne worked on it while I was asleep, but it'll still be a few days before its back to normal. Could be worse."

For several minutes, a comfortable silence stretched between them. Then Caelin asked, "What do you know about the Copper Isles? Everyone's been so worked up about them coming, but I keep forgetting to ask about them. It seems like the ambassadors coming to Tortall is important."

"What, you haven't read everything about the Isles from your books?" Liam teased. "The Copper Isles are located west of Tortall. They're actually a chain of islands all connected. The largest island, Ahrama, is the capital of the Isles, just like Corus is the capital of Tortall. Let's see, what else? A king rules the Isles, I think his name is Sekma the Fourth or something, but they handle succession differently. Instead of the firstborn son taking the throne, whichever son survives a battle to the death upon the death of the previous king is crowned. Of course, any sons that don't have a chance of winning in armed combat employ other methods to secure power; diplomacy, bribing, assassinations…its very dangerous to be a member of the royal family in the Copper Isles. Not to mention they tend to marry their cousins, and I've even heard of a few kings who married their own sisters. Rather inbred."

Caelin assimilated the information with wide eyes. "Can you imagine if that's the way succession was in Tortall? You would be trying to kill Roald right now!"

"I know," Liam answered uncomfortably. "Even in Tortall, there will always be some nobles who would be willing to back me if I wanted to try and depose Roald after my father's death, in the hopes that they would rise to unprecedented rank by supporting me. I try not to think about it though. I have no delusions of greatness, to think that I could be a king. I'm better at wacking things with a sword than diplomacy or ruling. That's Roald's talent, and he's welcome to the job."

Privately, Caelin thought that if Liam tried, he could accomplish anything, but she kept that opinion to herself. Liam had the idea that he was only capable of being a knight, and no matter what anyone else said, he wouldn't listen. "That still doesn't explain why everyone is so fired up about them coming, though."

"Well, a few years before the Isles fought against Tortall in the Immortals War, the Lioness murdered a Copper Isles princess who was conspiring against my father right before his coronation. I'm sure you've heard the stories about the coronation, so I won't get into that, but needless to say, King Sekma was not pleased with the death of his favorite daughter at the hands of the King's Champion. I think that's what pushed him to side with Carthak in the first place. That, and the promise of more land. Even though the Isles have lots of farmland, they can't support the population, and they don't have many natural resources; just lots and lots of farms. Because they don't have the resources to field a huge army, the kingdom has never been much of a threat, but if they ever did raise an army…they would probably look to conquer Tortall, not just for the resources, but because it would mean living space for their own people, who they consider infinitely superior," Liam finished.

Caelin listened to his lecture solemnly, chilled by the idea that there was a hostile kingdom just waiting for the chance to take over her home. "But if they don't have much of an army, why are we so worried about getting on their good side?"

"Because if they were to ally themselves with Scanra, Tusaine, or even the Carthaki rebels, they _would_ have an army. We don't want them to even make overtures, so we're trying to repair the damage with this state visit."

That made sense. As the saying went, you keep your friends close, but you keep your enemies closer. "Of course. Will there be many people coming into the palace?" The prospect of so many new strangers was daunting, but exciting.

"Oh yes. Besides the ambassadors, there's a strong possibility that some members of the royal family will be coming. Communication has been unclear, but I think the last message said one of the princes and at least two of the princesses would be coming. Not to mention various knights, mages, scholars, lords and ladies, and all of their servants. The palace is going to burst trying to hold all of them. This is the first major state visit since Tusaine came, back when my father first earned his shield, so everyone is on edge about it. There, does that answer all your questions?"

"Just one more," Caelin replied. "How long until you leave?" She couldn't stand to look Liam in the eyes as she spoke, so she concentrated on fiddling with her hands.

"Well, I talked to my father the other day after we left Lianne's room, and we agreed that I should stay at least until this state visit business is over and done with. Roald will have enough on his hands with all the meetings with the ambassadors, so they'll need me to play the dutiful prince and squire the members of the royal family around. After that, I'll probably head to the border and chase bandits around for a few months. After that, who knows? I know my father wants me close to Corus, if only because I'm second in line for the throne, but I want to travel. I want to learn everything there is to know about my kingdom, and the lands around her. I want to be a knight the minstrels will craft songs about, songs that will last centuries after my death."

Caelin was both relieved that Liam was staying as long as he was and terrified that he would leave court as soon as he could and never come back. To hide her mixed feelings, Caelin joked, "Well, sir knight, I hope you'll still have time for me when you become a legend. Besides, if you forget about me, you can forget about the birthday present I have for you."

"Birthday present? I completely forgot that yesterday was my birthday. I had a few other thoughts on my mind. Can I open it now?" Liam asked excitedly.

"Of course, it's already a day late, anyway. Here." She reached under her bed and drew out a small, brightly wrapped package, feeling slightly anxious as she walked across the room and handed it to Liam. She hadn't had any money of her own to spend, since she took nothing with her from Harowyn, and even though Numair or Lianne would have lent her some, she didn't want to take charity from anyone. Liam's present was completely unique, and best of all, it hadn't cost anything.

Liam's deft fingers made short work of the wrapping around the parcel, and he drew out a wide bracelet of woven phoenix feathers and beads. The feathers were of the brightest gold and bronze, and the beads were a startling variety of blue, red, purple, and green. The entire bracelet was held together by several binding spells, and the very fabric was interlaced with the strongest protective spells Caelin could find in her many spell books.

For several minutes Liam didn't say a word, and simply turned the bracelet around in his hands. Caelin couldn't judge his expression, and began to worry that he was disappointed. "I know bracelets are for girls, but it's more of a wrist band than anything else. Phoenix feathers are supposed to give the wearer speed and agility, which will be useful when you're in battle. I know it's not an amazing present, like the gloves Lianne bought you or the sword belt Aremin and Orrin gave you, but…I thought you might like it. If you don't, I can…"

"Caelin, shut up for a minute, will you?" Liam interrupted with a smile. "I love it. It's beautiful, and thoughtful, and perfect. You don't understand, you could have gotten me an empty box and I would have been happy, but this is amazing. I'll wear it always."

"That's good to know if I ever can't come up with something to get you," Caelin responded with a laugh, but she was secretly relieved that Liam liked her present. It had taken many frustrating hours to manipulate the phoenix feathers correctly. In the distance, the bells chimed the eleventh hour. Caelin frowned and looked at Liam sternly as he fixed the bracelet onto his left wrist. "And now its time for you to leave and get some sleep. We'll never be able to explain to Lord Padraig if you ended up sleeping against my wall all night. Up you go," she said as she offered her hand to Liam.

Liam was too tired to protest her help, and almost dragged Caelin down with him as he struggled to stand upright. Once the lanky prince was on his feet, Caelin opened the door, expecting him to head right to his new rooms in the section of the palace reserved for knights. Instead, a strange look passed over his face, and he hesitated. For a brief moment green eyes met blue, and then he leaned down swiftly and planted a gentle kiss on Caelin's lips. Before she could react, Liam smiled, squeezed her hand, and slipped out of her room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.


	9. Plans and Intrigue

**Chapter Eight: Plans and Intrigue**

            "I'm bored." Caelin jumped off of her bed and paced back and forth across the tiny confines of her room, feeling like she could run for miles, but without any real destination. Even the multitude of books in her room, which could normally keep her enthralled for hours, seemed dry and boring. It was too early for the evening meal, and she really wanted to go for a quick ride, but by the time she finished saddling Diamond, the sky would be just dark enough to make it dangerous to take the mare out.

            _You could always try practicing_, Baron suggested sleepily from his perch in the corner of her room. The phoenix had, as usual, slept away most of the morning and afternoon, and was just now starting to wake up a little. He was most active at night, often spending the entire evening hunting or spying around the city. _Numair did say he wanted you to brush up on your illusion work._

            "I already did that for about an hour while you were sleeping," Caelin replied in a peevish tone, not really angry with Baron, but frustrated at the situation in general. She needed an outlet. The past three weeks had been one great mass of boredom, for the most part. Magewinds was currently in a recess, which meant most of the students had returned home for two weeks, and Caelin didn't have to attend her normal classes with the healers and would-be knights. Numair didn't even have time for their lessons, because he was constantly trading secrets with the head Copper Isles mage, who also happened to be the highest ranked ambassador King Sekma had sent to Tortall.

            The Copper Isles. Caelin had heard just about enough of that name. It was seemed to be the only subject the palace and city wanted to discuss. Everyone was abuzz with the latest gossip, whether it was about the handsome prince, his two beautiful sisters, or the many knights and ladies that had traveled with them from the islands to visit Tortall. Even the commoners, who generally tried not to pay much attention to any nobles outside the royal family were caught up in the excitement. Whenever the Copper Isle servants ventured into the city, they were surrounded by dozens of curious men and women who were desperate to learn about the newcomers. In only three weeks, the members of the delegation had managed to charm every member of the city; everyone except Caelin.

            It all began a week ago, at the welcome ball for the delegation. As Numair's apprentice, Caelin's presence had been required, and at the time she had been excited to be included. She could still remember the air of excitement and anticipation that had pervaded the grand ballroom as the dignitaries were announced.

            '"May I present his majesty, Prince Moranice of the Copper Isles and his sisters, the Princess Amalia and the Princess Seleste."

            'The large room fell silent at the herald's words, and all eyes, including Caelin's, were fixed upon the staircase as a tall man with two women on his arms started down. The prince was tall, dark, and handsome, exactly the way a prince was supposed to look, with skin as copper as the name of his home. His sisters were appropriately gorgeous, Amalia as dark as her brother with black hair that fell straight down her back, and Seleste slightly less dark, but no less a beauty, with brown hair that curled to just above her shoulders. All three wore bright reds, oranges, and yellows, which contrasted perfectly with their dark skin and stood out among the blues, grays, purples, greens, and blacks that were common among the Tortall nobles.

            The siblings had identical smiles on their faces, but to Caelin's eyes, the smiles seemed to be forced. They crossed the ballroom and stopped in front of the two thrones where Jonathon and Thayet sat with Roald, the princess Shinkokami, Lianne, and Liam. For a moment, Caelin paused to admire the Tortall prince, who was clad in an emerald green hose and looked more handsome than the Copper Isles prince could every hope to be, in her humble, and certainly not biased, opinion. Then, although she strained her ears, she couldn't hear what was said next. Jonathan said what had to be words of greeting and introduction, Thayet gave her own welcome, and then the Copper Isles prince replied. Whatever he said, it must have been funny, because the entire family smiled and laughed, setting the rest of the court at ease. Once the two royal families had finished their introductions, the herald called out the names of the various ambassadors, knights, and ladies of the Copper Isles.

            All of the dignitaries were copper skinned and dark, and their clothes followed the bright trend of their prince and princesses. Caelin didn't pay much attention to the rest, though, because her blue eyes were fixated back towards where Liam was standing. The two princesses had flocked to his side as if they were magnets drawn specifically to handsome royalty, while Prince Moranice danced attention on Lianne, who, to Caelin's complete horror, was blushing and acting insipid. Liam, too, seemed charmed by the two sisters, particularly by the dark Amalia. Caelin fumed as music started up and Liam immediately bowed to the princess and whirled her out onto the dance floor, followed by Lianne and Moranice.

            Caelin was left with nothing to do but watch them dance all night, as Numair left her in the corner to go talk with the mages that had come with the delegation. And so Caelin, sat, and fumed, and planned various ways to dismember the very charming princess Amalia.

The rest of the week had fallen downhill from that night. As he'd predicted, Liam spent much of his time entertaining the two princesses, taking them for rides, visits to the city, and dancing with them every evening. That wouldn't have been so bad, in Caelin's opinion, since he was just doing his princely duty, but he didn't have to seem so happy about doing it. Either Liam was a better actor than she had given him credit for, or he was well and truly enthralled by the visiting princesses. Whatever the case was, as the next two weeks passed by, he remained content to spend all his time with Princess Amalia, and ignored Caelin, Aremin, and Orrin.

To make matters worse, Lianne had fallen head over heals in love with Prince Moranice, or the Moron Prince, as Caelin liked to refer to him. The dark prince had turned the previously level headed, opinionated, and determined princess into a simpering idiot. The few times Lianne had deigned to say a word to Caelin in the past week, all she could do was blather on and on about how handsome and intelligent and witty and oh yes, handsome Prince Moranice was. She had no time for Caelin, and even less time for Orrin.

            If Caelin felt sorry for herself, she felt even sorrier for the new knight. In one night, Orrin lost his friend and his love interest in one stroke. Caelin had talked to him briefly the night before, and he was as confused and dispirited as she was. In one fell swoop, Lianne had turned into the very type of princess she despised. It made no more sense than the way the entire city was welcoming the new arrivals with open arms. It almost seemed as if the entire city was under a spell.

            "Caelin? Are you there?"

            Caelin jumped when she heard the voice of her teacher and turned to the fireplace, where Numair's head was situated in between the crackling flames. "I'm here," she answered, moving so that Numair could see her through the fire. Numair had rigged her fireplace to act as a scrying tool directly into Numair's room, so they could contact each other when necessary instead of walking all the way across the palace. "What do you need?" She tried to keep the stress and unhappiness out of her voice as she looked at Numair through the fire. She didn't need her teacher trying to figure out why she was upset.

            "Are you busy this afternoon? I'd like to introduce you to Lord Nassor from the Isles. He expressed an interest in meeting you."

            "What he really means," Daine's voice called from somewhere out of sight, "is that he's been bragging about what a wonderful apprentice he has, and now the other mage wants to see if he's full of it or not. Now granted, Numair is full of it most of the time, but for once he hasn't been exaggerating."

            Caelin laughed, even though she wasn't anywhere near enthusiastic about spending her time with anyone from the Copper Isles. Still, she didn't have anything else to do, and Numair was looking at her with such a pleading expression she couldn't help but reply, "Of course I'll come. Is this formal, or should I wear my uniform?"

            "Your uniform," Numair replied after a moment's thought. "Can you be here in fifteen minutes?"

            "I'll be there," Caelin replied with false cheer. _Here we go again_.

            "Lord Nassor, may I present my apprentice, Caelin of Harowyn. Caelin, Lord Nassor of the Copper Isles."

            Caelin bowed as a tall man strode across Numair's sitting room to where Numair, Daine, and Caelin were standing to get a closer look at her. As Caelin looked up and observed the mage, a strange feeling crept up her spine. Lord Nassor was tall and dark, like all the Copper Isles men, with black hair that curled loosely down below his ears. His features were well placed, his teeth gleaming white, and his manners impeccable as he approached her and kissed her hand. "It is a distinct pleasure to meet the apprentice of such a renowned sorcerer as Master Numair. You must truly be something special to warrant his attention."

            "No, sir, I'm really not," Caelin demurred, trying to understand why her stomach was clenching and her muscles were as taut as bowstrings. There was something about the man standing in front of her that was eerily familiar, and unsettling enough to send her skin crawling.

            "Nonsense, I won't believe it. Perhaps you'd like to give me a demonstration of your skills?" The lord's question was innocent enough, but there was a strange gleam of anticipation in his dark eyes as he looked at her.

            "I'm sorry, I'd like to, but I've spent most of the day practicing. I probably couldn't light a candle if I tried," Caelin responded with a little laugh, hoping Numair had enough sense not to contradict her. He seemed about to protest, but Daine nudged him with an elbow in the side, and he remained silent.

            "You have a diligent student, Numair," Lord Nassor replied in a pleasant tone, but Caelin thought she could hear undercurrents of disappointment and vague anger behind his words. Of course, that was insane. Why would her simple refusal to give a demonstration make the mage so angry? "If only my students were half as hardworking. Alas, I seem to be cursed with a lazy lot."

            "Caelin is one of a kind," Numair said proudly, having recovered from his confusion admirably. "But tell me, what are the magic schools like in the Copper Isles? I have to admit; I'm not as knowledgeable as I should be on the subject. It seems I recall your system being quite a bit different from ours. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"

            Numair hit on a subject that Lord Nassor had a great deal to say about. The four of them sat down as he proceeded to instruct Numair in every aspect of magical training and schools in the Copper Isles. This progressed to a conversation on magical theory; Numair was enthralled, but Daine seemed less than thrilled, and Caelin noticed the older woman covering a yawn more than once.

            Caelin continued to wrack her brains, trying to reach some understanding as to why the mage unsettled her so much. Eventually, she reached for her magic, which was always ready and waiting, and gently probed the mage, who was too engrossed in the conversation to notice. She barely withheld a gasp of surprise when she noticed the signs of glamour on the mage. It wasn't very complicated, but she could see where he had woven it into his normal magical aura, and its sole purpose was to make the man extremely likeable, non-threatening, and far less competent than he really was.

            Lord Nassor didn't pause a beat in his conversation with Numair, but his eyes shifted and made contact with her own. In them was a silent threat that said she should not pry into his magic again. Beyond that, Caelin could feel a pounding headache building up behind her eyes, as if someone was knocking on her mind and trying desperately to get in. Without having any proof, Caelin knew Lord Nassor was trying to test her in another way. 

            As the pressure became more and more intense, Caelin set aside even more energy to build up her shields. She felt like she was waging a war with the man in front of her, yet he looked calm and collected, even slightly blasé about the entire situation. A tiny bead of sweat rolled down her face and she clenched her hands into fists as she rebuilt the walls Lord Nassor kept doing his best to tear down.

            Whether it was a stroke of luck or Baron was listening in to her mental distress and clued her in, Daine's eyes flickered from Numair over to Caelin and she gasped aloud, interrupting the point Numair was trying to make. "Caelin, are you all right? You look terrible."

            "Headache," she gasped, not having enough energy to say more. Luckily, she didn't have to. Immediately Daine strode over, clasped Caelin firmly around the arm, and led her over to the door.

            "I don't care how much you want to stay and listen to all this magic talk, you need to get some sleep. I'm sure Lord Nassor will find time to talk to you some other time."

            "That I will, young sorceress," the mage said pleasantly, but as Caelin looked in his eyes, she could see, beneath the pleasant front, a well of malice pooling in his dark gaze. With a shiver, Caelin tore her glance away from his and allowed Daine to lead her out of the room and back to her own.

            It was all she could do to drag herself into bed and draw the curtains so the last hour of daylight could be held at bay. As she drifted off to sleep, her exhausted mind made one last, crucial connection. Caelin remembered where she had seen that magic before. It was the same dark power that had so ruthlessly attacked her mind and her magic, leaving her defenseless when the mercenaries kidnapped her. Lord Nassor was the man responsible for the missing children. 

            "Excuse me, Princess Seleste? Could I speak to you for a moment?" Caelin cringed as her voice came out tinny and small as she called to the dark princess walking ahead of her down the hall. For a moment it seemed like the younger princess hadn't heard Caelin, but eventually she turned around, and immediately her contrived, pleasant expression dropped when she saw who was addressing her.

            "Yes? What is it? If you need to find out where my rooms are to clean something, ask one of the other servants. I'm occupied at the moment," the princess stated haughtily, wiping one perfectly manicured, delicate hand across her bright red dress to make sure there wasn't a spec of dust on it.

            Caelin bit back a scathing reply and said as politely as she could, "I'm not a servant, your highness. I'm a student here, a mage. I need to see Prince Liam. Do you know where he is?"

            Princess Seleste laughed unpleasantly, a scornful expression flirting across her face. "You want to speak to the prince? What makes you think he'd want to talk to someone like you?"

            "We're friends," she replied stubbornly, unwilling to give up on her lead. "It's very important that I see him right away. If you could just tell me..."

            "Wait a minute! I know who you are," the princess laughed in delight. "You're that commoner Lianne and Liam took pity on, aren't you? The one who murdered those nobles in Harowyn? We even heard about it in the Copper Isles; it was quite the slaughter. Caitlin, is it? It's really quite amazing what accomplished actors they are; you actually believe they care about you! As if the prince and princess of Tortall would care about a simple commoner. My sister told me about the wristband you made for Liam's birthday. She said it was really quite quaint."

            For several seconds, Caelin simply stared at Princess Seleste, wondering how anyone could be so unnecessarily cruel. Then, she began to see red and she could feel herself shaking as she gritted out, "Regardless, I'd really like to know where Liam is." It took every ounce of self-control she had not to reach over and rip chunks of coiffed hair from the princess's empty head.

            "Well that's too bad, because Liam is with my sister now, and I really don't think they want to be disturbed." With one last laugh, the princess turned around and minced away down the hall.

            "Goddess!" Caelin swore, trying to rub the tension building behind her eyes away with her hand. For the past three days, Caelin had spent every spare hour trying to corner Liam and Lianne somewhere to tell them about her suspicions of the Copper Isles delegation. Using her Gift, although very cautiously to avoid detection, she had determined that every single person, from the royal family all the way down to the lowliest of servants, had glamours cast upon them to make them more likeable. For some reason, they seemed to want to appear as harmless and innocent as possible, which made Caelin wonder what exactly they were planning on doing.

            Unfortunately, Lianne and Liam were never to be found. Whenever Lianne wasn't with Prince Moranice, she was giggling with the other highborn ladies, both from the Copper Isles and Tortall, including Princess Seleste, who was said to be Lianne's closest friend. Liam was never seen without the company of Princess Amalia. Among the servants, rumor said there was going to be a double wedding soon, to cement the alliance between the two countries.

            Caelin could no longer tell herself that Liam was just being polite and acting exceptionally well. She had seen him walking with the princess and it would take a blind person to miss how he stared at her as if she was more beautiful than the Mother Goddess herself. He was always with her, and was going out of his way to avoid Caelin. Every time she thought she was getting close, Liam would be spirited away by the lovely Copper Isles princess, leaving Caelin back at square one. She felt like screaming her suspicions to the entire court, but she didn't want to attract any more attention than she could. Ever since the meeting with Lord Nassor, Caelin had been walking on pins and needles to avoid seeing him or any of the other high-ranking officials. There was something very dangerous and very deadly about the game being played, and Caelin didn't want to step in until she had incontrovertible proof that there was foul play.

            However, until she found a way to talk to Liam, she was no closer to finding that proof than she had been before. Caelin sighed and made a snap decision. She hadn't wanted the situation to deteriorate to this point, but she had no choice. She only hoped her plan would work.

            That night, Caelin skipped the evening meal and slipped away undetected, walking silently through the wide halls of the palace until she found herself in the area of the palace designated for knights. Using a tiny bit of her magic, Caelin waited until she recognized the aura coming from one of the rooms. With a furtive look about to make sure no one was looking, Caelin used a quick spell to unlock the door, made sure there were no nasty protective spells, and slid into the room. Once inside, her eyes quickly adjusted to the darker light and she looked around at her surroundings.

            Liam's room was clean and decorated simply, the typical warrior's room. Besides the bed, a chair, desk, and bookshelf were the only other furniture in the room. His weapons were hung up neatly on one wall, every piece shining softly in the dim light. Caelin lit the fireplace in the room casually and sat on the bed. As she did, she caught the scent of perfume emanating from the sheets, and for the first time, the realization of Liam's relationship with Amalia truly hit.

            She wanted to cry, needed to cry, but she couldn't. Caelin had always known, deep down, that despite her feelings for the prince, and despite his indications that perhaps he too felt something for her, they could never have a relationship. He was, after all, a prince of Tortall, and she was just a penniless orphan who was living off of the king's charity. Still, the betrayal she felt was like a knife ripping through her heart. In her sixteen years, she had let few people close enough to truly care about them. Liam was the one who had slid past all her barriers and gotten into her heart and mind. Now that she knew it was all a lie, it felt like something essential was missing.

            For hours Caelin sat on Liam's bed, smelling the scent of orchids, and waiting. The sun slid beneath the horizon and bathed Corus in darkness; the only light came from the sliver of the moon hanging low in the night sky. Outside, thieves and prostitutes roamed the streets, looking for their night's pay. The many taverns in the city were filled with men and women trying to escape from their normal, dull lives for a few hours of happiness and excitement. Inside the palace, the parties were still probably in full swing, while the ambassadors from the Copper Isles and the Tortallan council had yet another endless meeting. The servants went about their last chores for the night, some looking forward to a night out in Corus, others just spending time with their loved ones. Everyone was in motion except for Caelin.

            Eventually, just as Caelin was about to give up, the door to Liam's room slowly opened up. For a moment Caelin was frozen with the fear that Liam wouldn't be alone, but she soon let out a sigh of relief when only one shape walked into the room. The minute the prince saw someone on his bed, he reached for the swords on the wall, cursing. Once he realized whom it was, an expression of mixed bafflement and annoyance flashed across his face. "Caelin? What are you doing here?"

            "What do you think I'm doing?" Caelin snapped, pushing her hurt behind a wall inside her chest and letting all the frustration of the past week boil over. "I've been trying to talk to you for the past three days, but somehow you always seem to have something more important to do! You can't tell me you haven't gotten any of my messages, or seen me waving at you in the hall to get your attention, because we both know you'd be lying. I don't really care if you don't want to see me, but you know me enough to realize I wouldn't be trying to talk to you if it wasn't something important."

            "I've been busy," Liam replied lazily, dropping the sword he had picked up and sitting down on the chair, obviously affronted that Caelin was on his bed. "It's been my job to keep the princesses and other nobles occupied, not to mention I have to keep in fighting shape in case I'm sent out on patrol. I don't have time to deal with every single insignificant crisis in your life. All I ever do is listen to you complain. Mithros, before my Ordeal, the most terrible thing I'll ever have to face, all I did was try and keep you from worrying! What is it now; do you have a particularly nasty hangnail you need me to take care of? Or are you having another identity crisis; 'Oh, poor me, I'm a commoner and no one likes me.' Sorry, but if that's the reason, you'll have to find someone else to complain to, because I'm not listening anymore. Besides, it's about time you realized, no one really likes you."

            For just a minute, the excruciating pain Caelin was feeling shone out through her eyes, but she immediately clamped down and regained the stony, cold expression on her face. "No, it's not a hangnail. I think Lord Nassor is not who he seems, along with the rest of the delegates from the Copper Isles. They all have glamours on them to make them more likeable, and to seem less dangerous. They've got everyone in the palace and city fooled except me. There's something strange going on, and I need your help to figure out what."

            Several seconds passed as Liam stared at her, and then he burst into laughter. "Oh, this is priceless," he gasped, bending over slightly. "I can't believe you actually expect me to believe this. It's obvious what's going on here," he said maliciously, stressing the word obviously because he knew how much she hated it. "You're jealous of Amalia, so you're making up some crazy story about how evil they all are to try and make me hate her. You're very transparent, you know, and it's not going to work. They've given us no reason to believe they aren't interested in becoming firm allies, and I can certainly attest to the integrity of Amalia. I've come to know her quite well," he added in a lascivious voice, knowing that every word was ripping Caelin's heart to shreds a little bit more. His words seemed so strange and out of place; even if Liam no longer cared about her and was in love with the princess, she never could have imagined him acting the way he was. It was as if he was a different person...

            Caelin gritted her teeth and reached for her magic. As soon as she had it in her grasp, she used it to look at Liam, and held back a yell of dismay. His aura, which was normally blue, gray, and green, was warped through with sickening strands of black. The foreign strands were slowly creeping their way closer and closer to the core of his soul, and soon they would completely overpower everything that made Liam, Liam. Caelin shuddered and let go of the strands of blue fire, not wanting to touch the power she knew came from Lord Nassor. "It all makes sense," she whispered softly to herself. "He's under a spell. I bet anything Lianne is too."

            "What did you say," Liam demanded, his eyes wary as he realized Caelin had been using her Gift.

            "I said," Caelin replied suddenly, making up her mind in an instant, "that I really don't care what you have to say. I need you to show me where Lord Nassor's room is, and I need you to show me right now. You are going to bring me there, come in and hide with me, and try to find out as much information as possible. If you don't agree to take me voluntarily, I'll put you under a rather painful spell that will force your cooperation. If you try and run, I will make you regret it. It's past time someone discovered what they're up to, and that person is going to be me. And then, once we find out what's going on, you are going to go straight to the king and tell him what you know. Do you understand me?"

            Liam spluttered, "You can't do that! I could have you arrested for this. No, I _will_ have you arrested for this."

            "Fine then, you can arrest me all you want, after you help me. Now are you going to go willingly, or do I need to give you some encouragement?"

            Liam cursed her with every major god and goddess, threatened to have her executed, and promised to personally spread her ashes on traitor's hill, but eventually the prince stood up and exited his room with a promise to take her to the mage's suite of rooms.

            "Are you sure he'll still be at the council?" Caelin asked again when they arrived at the first entrance to Lord Nassor's suite. "If he's in his room, we'll probably both get killed."

            "He'll be gone," Liam muttered angrily, his eyes flashing as he leaned against the wall next to the door.

            "You'd better back up," Caelin warned him as she began inspecting the door with her blue magic. Not surprisingly, there were several protection and warning spells, but not as many as she had expected for such a powerful mage. _He probably thinks no one will every think to suspect him_, she thought sourly as she started disarming the spells one by one. Once again she thanked the fact that she was Numair's student and not still working with the Magewinds instructors; she would never have known how to disarm the spells without his expert tutelage. Finally every single spell was disarmed, and Caelin and Liam slipped into the room without detection.

            The first thing Caelin noticed as she entered the room was that every wall was filled with maps; maps of Tortall, maps of the Copper Isles, maps of waterways, maps of Scanra...although they all seemed to be just normal maps, Caelin wondered if their real purpose wasn't just hidden with more magic. She waved a hand and watched as the maps melted slightly and writing began to appear.

            A growing sense of horror filled Caelin as she walked closer to the maps of Tortall and Scanra. On the border between the two countries, a large area was marked in red that surrounded the City of the Gods. Next to her, Liam's body tightened in surprise as the markings appeared. Caelin was about to go investigate a column of numbers on the side of the map when she heard voices outside the door. Cursing, she grabbed Liam and dragged him over to the bed, returned the maps to normal, and dragged the prince of Tortall with her under Lord Nassor's bed. Not nearly enough concealment for Caelin's state of mind, but she was depending on the assumption that the room would be so filled with Lord Nassor's magical items and spells that he wouldn't notice one more small disturbance in the fabric of the room. In the back of her mind, she wondered exactly how both she and Liam managed to fit under the bed, and wished she could see the expression on his face.

            The door to the room opened and Lord Nassor walked in first, followed by, to Caelin's utter surprise, Prince Moranice. Once inside the room, Caelin noticed that Lord Nassor dropped the glamours. Caelin had to hide a laugh as Liam stared at the now shorter, awkward Prince Moranice. Secretly, Caelin held the overwhelming desire to see what the princesses looked like without Lord Nassor's assistance.

            "Well that went well," Prince Moranice said first, breaking the silence in the room as he lounged indolently in one of the chairs. "That buffoon really seems to trust you-us."

            Liam shook in indignation as Lord Nassor replied lazily, "Of course he trusts us. I'm using enough spells to ensure that the entire city is enamored of you and your sisters, so the king ought to be falling all over himself to cement this alliance."

            "Are all the preparations ready? The soldiers have to be ready to move right away, once the plan gets set into motion. Everything must go smoothly."

            "It was my plan in the first place," Lord Nassor snapped in annoyance, "and everything will be fine. The Scanrans are ready to move at my word. I've been in contact with Damian, and his mages are ready to go at any time. They've certainly got the power," he laughed nastily. "The ships are hanging just off the coast, and can begin attacking at any time. The spell is in place as well. We only await word from the king, and the plan will be set in motion."

            Prince Moranice sighed petulantly. "I do hope my father appreciates the fact that I'm personally overseeing this operation. Imagine, the 'idiot son' finally doing something right. My brothers will be absolutely green with envy. Once I'm married to Lianne and crowned king of Tortall, he'll have no recourse but to give me the Copper Isles as well. And then, who knows? Perhaps I'll conquer Scanra and Tusaine." The boy, for Caelin could only think of him as a spoiled little boy now, sounded as if he were talking about a mere child's game instead of the fate of several major kingdoms.

            Lord Nassor, too, seemed to have had enough of Prince Moranice. "I'm sure you will, my lord," he said in a tone of voice that indicated he thought just about anyone had a better chance of becoming a conqueror than the pudgy prince. "Now, though, you must leave so I can concentrate on making contact with your father. Perhaps tonight will be the night he gives us permission to set the plan in motion." The prince bobbed his head in agreement. Before he left, Lord Nassor waved one hand, and Prince Moranice morphed once more into the tall, graceful, and exceedingly handsome man the rest of the kingdom knew, but if Caelin looked hard enough, she could still see the fat, pimply prince who had been there just a moment before.

            As Moranice headed for the door, Caelin panicked, wondering how they would ever escape. Luckily, Nassor left too, and Caelin dragged Liam out from under the bed and ran for the door as quickly as possible.

Caelin didn't say a word to Liam as they returned to his room. Once inside, Liam began pacing back and forth across the small confinement, muttering words she couldn't properly hear. While Liam worked out his frustrations, Caelin probed gently with the remainder of her magic left over from the complicated shielding spell and smiled slightly with satisfaction. There was no longer any sign of black magic on Liam's aura, which meant he had been able to throw off the spell himself, when confronted with the truth. Or it meant that Lord Nassor had known they were in the room, was confident that his preparations were going perfectly according to the plan, and simply didn't care about ensorceling the prince any longer.

            Finally Liam turned to her, eyes filled with anguish. "Caelin...I don't know what to say."

            "Just say you'll tell your father what we saw tomorrow, and that will be enough for me. I should really be getting back to my room. It's very late." Even though Caelin knew that all of the harsh words Liam had spoken to her, and his behavior of the past few days were because of a spell, the pain was still palpable. Spells could only change a person's behavior so much; those thoughts and feelings had existed somewhere deep in Liam's heart, and the spell had merely brought them to the surface of his mind.

            "I...I didn't mean any of what I said. About not caring about you, and not wanting to listen to your problems. You know that's not true! It's like you said, I was under a spell. I didn't mean any of it. I really, really didn't."

            Caelin smiled sadly. "But Liam, that's the problem. On some level, you did. And you did sleep with Amalia. You can't deny it. I know you weren't completely in control of your actions, but you could have fought, and you didn't. Now please just promise me you'll speak to the council tomorrow."

            "You know I will," Liam responded quietly, grudgingly accepting the fact that Caelin wasn't ready to forgive him. "You should probably get some sleep. The council will want to talk with you tomorrow as well."

            Caelin nodded and left the room without another word, knowing that if she did, she wouldn't have the strength to leave at all. The look on Liam's face as she walked out stayed in her heart, but so did the words he had spoken just hours before. It would take a long time before they were erased completely.

            As Caelin slipped into her bed, her thoughts remained on the City of the Gods. Somewhere out there, probably hundreds of other children were suffering the same fate Caelin had narrowly avoided, their magic and souls drained out of them for use by other mages. She couldn't let them remain imprisoned. "By the Goddess," she whispered softly, fervently, "I will rescue them."

            _The dreams were confusing, filled with twisted and distorted images. A tall man, dark and dangerous, laughing. Children crying, shrieking for their mothers. A dark wave of unfathomable danger stretching across the land, poised to wash over all of Tortall. Death. _

            With a gasp, Caelin's eyes flew open and she sat up in her bed, shaking. Something was happening. Magic permeated every inch of the palace. Everywhere, powerful spells were going off, the equivalent of magical blasts, resulting in blindness for anyone with the Gift. Caelin wanted to cower in her bed and try to protect her mind from the excruciating jabs of pain, but she couldn't.

            Caelin staggered to the door after throwing on the first tunic and pair of breeches she could find and thrust it open. All around, students were emerging from their rooms, looking as wild-eyed and confused as she felt. Even non-magical students were exiting their rooms, because the entire palace was starting to shake, from the foundations all the way up to the highest towers. The feeling of electric intensity increased to a frenzy of energy, and then with a bang that deafened ears for several minutes, the spell reached its completion.

            Caelin was bodily thrown to the ground from the shock, along with anyone else trying to walk around. Her head slammed into the ground with a crack, and for a minute she lost consciousness. Eventually her vision came back, and she was aware of someone kneeling beside her. "Caelin, are you all right? Can you hear me?"

            Caelin groaned as her head responded to Liam's panicked words and she waved as him weakly with a hand. "Please...not so loud. I think me head's going to split open. What's going on?" Despite the fact that she was still angry with the prince, she allowed him to assist her in standing up. She tried to let go of him, but the minute she did, she started swaying and he immediately grabbed hold of her waist so she wouldn't fall.

            "I think we're about to find out," Liam answered grimly as the recovering students in the hall moved out of the way to allow Numair through, looking rather worse for the wear. His long black hair was a tangled mass around his head, his face was pale and haggard, and his eyes were worried as he rushed over as fast as he could. He too seemed to have experienced magical overload.

            "Caelin! Are you all right? You're bleeding."

            "I am?" she asked in amazement, touching a hand to her head gingerly. It came away bloody. "Gods, what happened? I woke up and everything fell apart. I thought the whole palace was going to fall to pieces. Was it one of your experiments?"

            "Oh no, not one of mine," Numair snapped angrily. "I was awake, working on a spell, when I started feeling the beginnings of the spell web coming from Lord Nassor's rooms. I got there just as the spell completed; he disappeared right in front of me."

            "Spell web?" Caelin asked, not recognizing the name. "What's that?"

            "Essentially, it's a mass transportation spell that can be set around a large area and targeted through a sort of magical ID to bring literally hundreds of people from one place to another. The problem is, I've never heard of anyone having the power to pull it off. It would take dozens of mages at full strength and unlimited power reserves to even attempt the spell. I know the mages here couldn't have done it."

            Caelin's face went white as she looked at Liam in shock. The missing children. "They're all gone? Everyone?"

            Numair nodded. "Down to the very last servant."

            Caelin groaned, realizing that if she had only gone straight to the king, late hour be damned, they could have prevented the delegation from slipping away. Suddenly, a terrible thought occurred to her. "Liam, go to Lianne's room right now." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Liam turned white and sprinted down the hall towards his sister's room. It only took a moment for him to return, his face a mask of grief.

            "She's gone. That...web took her too." The unspoken thought was that Liam, too, would have been taken if the spell on him hadn't been broken the night before.

            "It's all my fault," Caelin moaned. "We should have said something last night."

            "Said something about what?" Numair demanded, looking as shocked as Liam had.

            "I've been...suspicious of Lord Nassor all week. I think his was the mage responsible for my kidnapping. And he was using a glamour; everyone in the delegation had them. We snuck into his room last night, and heard him talking with Prince Moranice. They've been planning this for years; they've been stealing the magical children to gain the power to hide their forces in Scanra. They have an army out there, near the City of the Gods, controlled by super-powered mages, and a navy that's going to tear into Tortall any day now. None of our mages could see it because they had such powerful shielding spells, I guess."

            "No, not that, it's because the City of the Gods is such a magical area, we never look for signals there anymore; all we can see is a huge block of magic. Mithros, we should have prepared for this. It all makes sense." Numair seemed disgusted with himself for not seeing the truth, but Caelin wondered if he was more upset with her for not saying anything.

            "It's all my fault," she repeated, aware that Liam too was consumed with guilt.

            "Did you know how they were going to escape the palace?"

            "No..."

            "Did you know when they were going to set the plan in motion?"

            "No," Caelin repeated again.

            "Then I fail to see how this is your fault. You two had better come with me and we'll go talk to the council, let them know what you heard and saw last night."

            Despite Numair's words of encouragement, Caelin still felt anxious when the council convened later that evening for a meeting, every face pale and tense. The king opened up the meeting, looking infinitely worse than the rest of them combined. He, along with his powerful Gift, had control of the palace, city, and entire kingdom through the Dominion Jewel. Any disruptive magic affected him more than most. "I suppose all of you know what's happened by now, but let me recap. The Copper Islander mage, Lord Nassor, set in place a spell web, which is a mass transportation spell. He set it off last night, and every member of the delegation was whisked away. We can only guess what their purpose was, why they even bothered with this farce of an alliance. I think we can all agree, though, that whatever they're planning, it won't be pleasant. Does anyone have something else to add?"

            Before anyone else could speak, Caelin stood up and cleared her throat. Her heart was pounding as she turned to face King Jonathan and said quietly, "I have something to add, your highness. For the past three weeks, I've been suspicious of the influence the delegation has had on everyone in the palace and city, including my friends, Prince Liam and Princess Lianne. Perhaps it was jealousy, but it seemed to me that the delegation members were just too perfect. When I met Lord Nassor, I immediately saw that he had a glamour on him, to make him seem unsuspecting and not powerful. He was placing glamours on members in the delegation, which is probably how they triggered the trap spell.

            "Last night, I forced Prince Liam, who was acting strangely, to show me to Lord Nassor's room. I threatened the prince, and I realize that for that I was acting treasonously, but I believed the mage was a threat to the entire kingdom. When I forcibly entered the room with the prince, the first things we saw were maps of Tortall, Scanra, and the oceans surrounding Tortall. I took off a spell that hid writing on the maps, and they were filled with markings of troop placements. There is an army gathering in Scanra, and a navy just off of our coast." Caelin waited for the surprised murmuring to die down before continuing.

            "Lord Nassor entered the room soon after, along with Prince Moranice. They spoke of a special plan they've been cultivating for years, a plan to take over Tortall. From what I know about the Copper Isles, I assume they're looking for living space for their people. Lord Nassor said he was only awaiting notice from the king to put the plan in motion. I thought we had time, so I purposely didn't arouse the palace ahead of time, and the Copper Islanders have stolen the Princess Lianne in order to marry her to Prince Moranice and strengthen his claim to the throne. I realize that my actions have caused innumerable problems, and I leave myself in your control. If I am to be arrested for treason, then so be it." Caelin sat down abruptly after her speech, surprised at how controlled her voice sounded when she was a quivering mess.

            However, immediately after she sat down, Liam stood up and shouted for quiet over the din of voices frantically discussing Caelin's news, particularly the king, who was panic stricken over the news of Lianne's abduction. "This is my fault as much as it's Caelin's! We both decided not to alert the palace last night. If you arrest her, you'll have to arrest me too." There was a stubborn look on his face as he glared directly at his father. Once more, the room dissolved into shouting.

            Finally the king stood and the room gradually fell silent. He seemed wearier than before as he said, "No one is going to be arrested. If anything, I should be grateful that you, Caelin, had the sense to suspect when the rest of us were blind. We now know more than we ever would have without you. The kidnapping of my daughter is, unfortunately, the least of our concerns. We need to know their strength and where they are going to strike first. And, even more importantly, how they managed to hide all of this from us. Surely our mages would have seen something to tell of their movements? Surely I should have seen this? The Jewel should have warned me."

            "I can answer that too," Caelin answered, trying not to cringe as all eyes focused on her one more. "I figured this out last night and this morning, with Numair's help. It all rests on the kidnapped children. They must have been slowly harvesting the most talented mages for years without notice. I'm sorry, but except in my case, nobles don't pay any attention when a commoner child goes missing. It happens all the time, but in this case, the results were more dangerous. The Copper Isles mages have been drawing on the children's Gifts to power their own powerful cloaking spells. It's my belief that they've taken over the City of the Gods, because magical sight is clouded there anyway. The army and navy must be hidden under the spells as well. And, if they have all that power, it wouldn't have been difficult for them to obscure the Jewel from seeing what they were doing. I couldn't tell you how they did it, but with that much power available, anything is possible."

            "Which means," the Lioness growled angrily, "we have no way of knowing when or where the bastards will strike if we can't see them coming."

            "Precisely," the king said in agreement. "They have an army, a navy, unstoppable mages, and they want my throne. Somehow, we need to find a way to combat this threat. Any ideas?"

            Caelin and Liam became virtually invisible as the council began discussing possible strategies to wage war against the Copper Isles. Liam was engrossed in the conversation, but an idea was beginning to form in Caelin's head, and she needed quiet in order to fully contemplate it.

            Without a word to anyone, Caelin slid out of the council room and headed back to her own room, taking note of the fearful faces of nobles, students, knights, and servants alike. They didn't know what was happening, but they knew it was something supernatural and terrible. The minute Caelin had securely locked the door to her room, she started talking to Baron, whose feathers were still standing up in alarm from the web spell.

            "I suppose you heard everything that was said in the council?" She asked the phoenix conversationally, gently stroking his feathers down.

            _Of course_, he replied haughtily. _It was worth listening in to. And I also know what you're planning. Do you really think you can rescue those children by yourself? You, an untrained, untried, child mage?_

            "Do you think I can?" She shot back at the phoenix, knowing that he knew her best, and her abilities.

            _I think_, his mind voice came slowly, _that with my help, and a bit of luck, you have a chance. They'll never let you go, though, not without a struggle._

            "That's why I'm not telling anyone, and why I'm leaving tomorrow. Of course they'll stop me if I try to go. It's ludicrous what I'm planning to do. I'm probably going to die a rather painful death. But I'm the only one that has a chance, if you think about it. If I can just get to the City of the Gods, use a powerful glamour to make me seem untrained and the perfect prize, they'll take me captive right away. Now that I know what kind of spells they'll put on me to tap my magic and keep me powerless, I should be able to work out a way to defend against them without losing my own abilities. And, if you help, I'll be at full strength, no matter how much magic they try to drain from me."

            _It could work_, the phoenix mused, hopping around on his windowsill in growing excitement. _Yes, that could be exactly what we need to stop them. You could gradually help the kids one by one until all of them are only slightly under the mages' control, and then you break away. Once that happens, the army and navy will appear, and they won't have magic to attack Tortallan soldiers with. It could work._

            "It has to work, Baron. There's no other way."

            Caelin dragged out the travel bags Dom had given her long ago and started packing clothes into them. As she did, she wondered if she would ever see Dom, Daine, Numair, Aremin, Orrin, Lianne, and Liam ever again. Most likely, even if she did succeed, she wouldn't make it out of the City of the Gods. It was too dangerous. Then, knowing that if she focused on the dangers she would never have the courage to go through with her plan, she started thinking about the practical aspects of her journey. She would need to steal Diamond out of the stable, and she would need provisions. She wasn't capable of hunting for her own food, and even if she were, there wouldn't be much game to be found at the end of winter.

            "Baron, how am I going to find provisions?" She asked the phoenix in a panic. "And I'm going to need warm clothes, warmer than what I have here."

            _Leave it to me_, Baron replied in a haughty tone. _Let me out, and I'll bring you back food and clothes_.

            "How are you going to manage that," she asked skeptically.

            _Is anyone going to question an immortal phoenix_? Baron questioned pointedly. _If I zoom into the kitchen and harass the workers, they'll give me anything I ask. They'll be too surprised to have a voice in their heads to question me. _

            Caelin agreed to Baron's plan, and after telling the phoenix what kind of food and clothes to procure for her, she let the immortal out of her room. If anyone, a few weeks ago, had told her Baron would willingly become a pack bird, she would have laughed herself silly. But then, if someone had tried to tell her about anything that had happened in the next few weeks, she wouldn't have believed him or her anyway.

            As Baron brought in load after load of supplies to Caelin's room, she continued to pack her bags. After Baron's final trip, she thought she had everything. Clothes, food, and weapons enough to keep her safe and fed throughout the journey north. Caelin was about to close and lock her door for the night when a hand slipped in and prevented her from closing it. With a squeak of dismay, Caelin was pushed backwards as a tall form entered the room.

            "Liam," she said weakly, maneuvering so that her body was keeping Liam from seeing her packed bags. "What are you doing here?"

            "Are you insane?" He snapped, gray eyes flashing in fury, body tense with barely held back frustration. "They'll kill you. Or you'll die on the road halfway there. You have no idea what you're getting in to! Why would you even consider such a foolish idea?"

            "I have no idea what you're talking about," Caelin stammered, wondering how the prince had known what she was up to.

            "Right. It's pretty obvious, when I see Baron flying back and forth to your room with provisions for a long, cold trip. You can't possibly hope to save them. It's a suicide mission."

            "Maybe it is, Liam, but I have to do something!" She proceeded to explain her reasoning to the prince, leaving out no aspect of her plan. There had to be some way to convince Liam that her plan actually made sense.

            Finally, Liam began relaxing, and his eyes returned to a brilliant shade of green. After she finished her explanation, he sighed and said, "Fine. I'm coming with you."

            "What?" Caelin squawked, convinced she had heard Liam wrong. "No you're not."

            "Why not? If you're determined to go through with this, you need someone besides a bird to help you."

            _Phoenix,_ Baron interrupted in annoyance. _I'm a phoenix. Get it right_.

            "But you'll be missed if you come. You're a knight, Liam. You swore to defend your kingdom and your father's throne, and haring off with me does not exactly qualify as protecting. It's treason for a knight to refuse a summons for war. You know that."

            "I will be protecting the kingdom, by protecting you. If you manage to succeed, we might be able to win this war. If you don't, it's only a matter of time before they destroy us. I can't let that happen."

            "But Liam, you'll lose your shield."

            "Then I do," the prince snapped, losing his patience. "But unless you agree to let me come, I'll tell my father and Numair right away, and you won't have any chance at all. Do you understand me?"

            Caelin glared at Liam in fury, and for a moment, hated the prince more than she ever had in her entire life. Then, finally, she relented. "You had better be ready to ride before dawn tomorrow. We can't waste any time."

            Liam smirked in satisfaction and delivered a half bow. "I'll be ready and waiting, milady."

            Caelin glared at Liam, but secretly, she was glad the knight would be accompanying her. With Liam's help, she was almost guaranteed to at least make it to the City of the Gods. After that, her skill and determination would decide the fate of the kingdom. Liam walked out of her room, and his last words were, "At dawn," before he left, no doubt off to prepare his own gear for the journey.

            Caelin sat down on her bed and stared off into the darkening sky. "At dawn."


	10. The Journey North

**Chapter Nine: The Journey North**

            The sun was just peering over the horizon when Caelin and Liam reached the final gate that separated Corus from the surrounding countryside. For most of the half hour ride, the darkened city had been slumbering peacefully in the last moments of the night. Only a few farmers were out readying their wares for the morning farmers' market. The guards at the gates were tired but alert as they approached. Caelin half expected them to say something as the horses moved through the gates, but apparently two youths on expensive horses didn't appear threatening enough to involve questioning. Of course, it also helped that they were both wearing hoods to conceal their appearances; it would not bode well if the guards recognized their prince sneaking out of his own city.

            A huge weight passed from Caelin's shoulders the moment Diamond stepped through the gate. The worst was over. It had taken everything Caelin had inside to leave the palace; the best memories of her life were there, and she knew that even though her intentions were honorable, she was betraying the people that had sheltered and welcomed her into their midst. In all likelihood, she would never return to her home again.

            Caelin looked over at Liam once they were farther away from the gates and he motioned for her to move out. She did so, lurching at first as Diamond stepped smoothly into a canter, but eventually regaining her balance as her muscles remembered how to ride again. _Who would have thought being kidnapped would help me learn how to ride?_ she thought ironically. However, Diamond was a much smoother ride than Lear's ill-tempered gelding had been.

            Caelin glanced over at Liam, riding abreast to her on the hard packed dirt road. She almost expected him to try and talk to her, but he didn't seem inclined to make conversation. In one way she was glad, because she still wasn't sure what she would say to him, but perversely, she was upset that he wasn't making an attempt to get back on her good side. A cloud of misery descended, and she wondered if, through her actions, her friendship with Liam was irrevocably damaged. Putting aside all thoughts of her attraction and possible feelings for him, Liam was a close friend, and she didn't want to lose that closeness. _Am I destined to lose everyone I'm close to before this is over? _she wondered morosely.

            To distract herself from such distressing thoughts, Caelin concentrated on the surrounding countryside. Most of the land around the city was filled with farms. It took a great number of specialized farms to provide enough food for the immense population of the city. By now, the light was growing steadier and brighter, and even though the late winter air was chilly, the promise of a mild day could be felt in the beams of warmth penetrating the land. With the light came families of farmers beginning their day's work. Entire families were preparing the fields, taking advantage of the good weather to get the land ready to plant crops for the spring. Later that day, the children would be required to go into the city for school, a requirement Thayet had instated when she became queen. Until then, though, they ran about as free as birds, streaked with cold mud and completely carefree.

            Spring. Caelin smiled slightly. Spring was supposed to be a time of happiness and hope, but for Tortall, spring meant the beginning of a possibly brutal war. The lives of the children she saw in front of her would be irrevocably altered by the coming war. Perhaps they would lose a parent, or a sibling. Maybe even they would fall prey to the army that would be descending on the city. For Caelin, spring had always meant spring-cleaning, her birthday on the first day of the new season, and the possibility of receiving a new book from Lady Seldina. This year she had retained hopes of having an actual birthday celebration with her friends. Nothing extravagant, of course, just an afternoon spent with her friends without worries or stress. Now, spring meant danger, uncertainty, and most probably death.

            "We should probably keep pressing hard for the first week and sleep outdoors, just in case my father decides to send someone after us. I doubt he will, but I've learned never to underestimate him. Once we get farther away from the city we should be able to stop for the night at inns." Caelin jumped in surprise when Liam's voice cut through the silence in the morning air. His face was so closely guarded Caelin couldn't tell what he was thinking. Even his eyes were a murky gray.

            "Whatever you think is best," Caelin answered, trusting Liam's judgment. After all, he had spent four years under the tutelage of the Knight Commander of the King's Own. "Don't worry about me falling behind though, because I won't." Caelin wouldn't be able to stand it if Liam insisted on treating her like a delicate flower. Just because she wasn't a knight or warrior didn't mean she couldn't keep up with him.

            Liam's mouth quirked into a quick smile, which he just as quickly suppressed, but Caelin felt slightly encouraged by the glimmer of emotion. So he wasn't as unfeeling as he was pretending to be. "I would never do that," he replied.

            "Good." They lapsed into silence once again, but Caelin felt slightly more cheerful as they continued down the road towards the unknown.

            "We'll need to send word to the northern lords immediately. They'll have to evacuate their holdings and bring their people south, or else they'll be slaughtered. Neal, see that word is sent out. Numair, have your mages had any luck scrying?" King Jonathan's voice was weary as he began the enormous task of organizing his forces. Already he had sent out the call to muster all local militias and messengers recalling all the companies of the King's Own and the knights on patrol. Tortall would need all the help she could get in facing her dangerous adversary.

            "Nothing, your highness," Numair answered formally, bowing to the dignity of the meeting and knowing that it wasn't the time for addressing the king as the old friend that he was. "Caelin's assessment of the missing children seems to be more and more likely. As far as I can tell, that's the only way those mages could have that much power to hide all their troops."

            The king nodded. "Where is Caelin? I know Lord Wyldon and Lord Raoul wanted to ask her about where she thought the troops were located on the map. I thought she was going to come to the meeting this morning?" In actuality, the meeting had been going on nonstop throughout the night, except for a two-hour break. That break was now three hours gone, and the council had been working steadily throughout the entire morning.

            "So did I," Numair answered with a frown. "Maybe she just slept in; she did have some rather ill effects from the web spell. She was unconscious for a minute." Numair stood up briefly to tell a servant to go wake Caelin and have her come to the meeting.

            The discussion continued rapidly right where it had left off, but not without order. The king kept a firm control over the topics being discussed, making sure everyone stayed on topic to the problems at hand and weren't distracted by minute details. Several minutes later, the servant returned looking nervous and carrying a carefully folded letter. The servant slipped into the room and walked over to the king. "Sire, Lady Caelin was not in her room, and most of her belongings are missing. There was a letter."

            Jonathan's eyes narrowed and he snatched the letter away from the servant, for once forgetting his manners. In the background, Numair swore fluently and violently as Jon read the letter.

_To his Royal Highness, King Jonathan of Conté:_

_            I have come to the decision that I am the only person with the ability to rescue the stolen children from the Copper Isles mages. I know this may sound pretentious and arrogant, since I am mostly untrained, but I still believe this may be the only way to break the mages' power. With the children, they are invincible, but if I can rescue the children, the mages will lose their source of power and the army will reappear. Tell Numair to stop swearing, because he knows that I'm right._

_            I wanted to go through this venture on my own, but unfortunately, your son Liam learned of my plans to go alone to the City of the Gods. He insisted on coming with me, to make sure I reached the city safely and help me in any way that he can. I hope you will not hold Liam to blame for leaving when he is needed, but if we succeed, he will have done his kingdom a great service._

_            Do not worry about what will become of me if I am discovered. I have made plans to assure that if I am found out, I will not be used to augment the Copper Isles power. I have enclosed all I can remember of the conversation between Lord Nassor and Prince Moranice, along with my representation of the maps in the room._

_            Respectfully, Caelin of Harowyn_.

            The king snarled and threw the letter down in disgust, his blue eyes bright with anger and annoyance. "Stupid girl! I don't have the men to send after her to drag her back from this suicidal mission. She has no idea what she's getting into. And taking my son with her!" Here Jon's face became even more haggard and drawn. "Why would he go along with this folly?"

            The question was rhetorical, but despite the king's wrath, Numair said slowly, "It may not be as crazy as you think. It probably won't work, but Caelin is the only one that even has a chance of rescuing the children. She can work it from the inside; she lets herself be captured, sets the children free from the inside, and disables the mages in one brilliant stroke. You son saw the chance of success in the plan. I don't think Liam would go off scatterbrained into a suicide mission just because he cares for Caelin. The Contés are known to do crazy things for love," Numair added dryly, "but even he isn't that irresponsible."

            The king glared at the tall mage, but eventually he sagged and shrugged his shoulders. "There's nothing we can do about it now. We have too much else to worry about. I just hope your student knows what she's doing. The kingdom is depending on it."

            _Caelin, Liam! There's trouble_. Baron's mind call shattered the quiet, late afternoon like a sheet of ice splintering into a thousand tiny fragments. Both Liam and Caelin jerked in surprise and pulled the horses to a halt, looking up to the sky to pinpoint the familiar form of the phoenix returning from his scouting. About a minute later, a tiny speck in the sky slowly took shape and crystallized into the elegant bird. He plummeted from the sky like a bolt of lightning and landed heavily on Caelin's shoulder. She slumped under the sudden weight at first, but straightened up as soon as her back adjusted to the extra burden.

            "What is it?" Liam demanded, looking worried as he waited anxiously for Baron's answer.

            _Bandits,_ the immortal replied immediately, his strange golden eyes filled with a very human-like concern. _Four of them. They look like they're convicts that have escaped from work detail. They must have picked up your trail a while ago, because they're practically on top of you._

            Caelin bit back a moan of dismay. In the week they had been traveling north, somehow Caelin and Liam had managed to avoid any trouble; in fact, Caelin had been stunned at how easy the trip was going. The most bothersome aspect was the fact that everywhere they went, they passed people from the north traveling south to escape the forthcoming war. They constantly had to fight with people trying to convince them to turn around and 'save yourselves, children, save yourselves.'

            "Is there any chance of drawing away from them? The horses are fast, they could outrun convicts on foot."

            "Not on this path," Liam answered tersely, his eyes narrowing to slits as he wheeled his chestnut gelding, Teasel, around the way they had just come. "They'll get faster and farther on foot than we can hope to ride on this terrain, but we can't leave the horses behind. We need the supplies or else we won't make it to the city. Caelin, listen to me. I want you to ride up the path and stay just in sight of me. Use whatever spells you need to, I don't really care, but find some way to take out one of the convicts. I'll take care of the other three."

            "I won't just run away like a coward," Caelin spat back, burning with anger when she realized Liam meant to send her away. "If you're going to stay and fight, I'll stay and fight."

            "D'you want to get killed, then?" He demanded, staring back into her defiant eyes. "I'm not asking you to just leave me to my fate, I'm asking you to have sense and play to your own talents. You can't do anything with a weapon, but you are a powerful mage. Use your magic instead of putting yourself in unnecessary danger."

            Caelin understood Liam's point, and was acutely embarrassed of her outburst, but there was no time for apologies. Without another word, she wheeled Diamond around and set out at a slow trot, cursing the rocky road and mostly frozen ground that prevented their escape. Baron flew overhead, keeping quiet, but obviously prepared to defend her in any way he could, if for some reason Liam was defeated by the convicts.

            Once Caelin was a fair distance away, she turned back and watched as Liam set his gelding slightly farther up the road, to keep him from the convicts, and readied himself for battle. Even from far away, she could see the tenseness in his muscles and imagined the iron constitution in his gray eyes as he waited for the enemy to appear. This was nothing like the way he had appeared at the tournament a lifetime ago; now, Liam was fighting for his life.

            The minutes drifted by slowly, and a sense of impending doom filled Caelin's heart. She was as tense as Liam looked, her hands clenched by her sides and her eyes staring into the distance. When the convicts finally appeared, though, time shifted gears sharply and started moving at a breathtaking pace.

            From what Caelin could tell, the convicts were completely surprised to find Liam ready and waiting for them, but as soon as they realized how young he was, how inexperienced he looked, they visibly gained in confidence. All four drew their swords and other assorted weaponry. Soon they were bristling with an outfit of swords, axes, and knives. Liam, to her eyes, looked small and poorly prepared with only his slim, softly shining blade.

            The four convicts rushed Liam at the same time, and Caelin knew it was her moment to act. Swiftly she reached for a thread of blue light and gripped it tightly. She shaped the spell with her mind and thrust out a tendril of power at one of the convicts. It was achingly difficult to keep from using a more deadly spell, but memories of the smell of charred flesh and the sight of freshly killed bodies effectively dampened her power. The result of her spell hitting the convict was as if he had been rapped smartly on the head. His eyes rolled back and he dropped like a lead weight, landing in a crumpled heap on the hard, stony ground.

            Caelin experienced a wave of elation, but it was quickly dampened when she turned her attention to Liam. One of the convicts was down, a heavy gash across the leg preventing him from rising again. However, the other two convicts appeared to be enraged by their comrade's injury, and were pressing a double attack on Liam. The smaller convict was bristling with knives, while the larger one carried an impressive battleaxe. They worked like a well-trained team; the first man would make a feint with his knives, or throw one, and while Liam was defending himself from the attack, the other would swoop in with his battleaxe, aiming crippling blows at the prince's arms and legs. Liam wielded his own sword with a fury of blocks and sharp reposts, scoring shallow cuts on both opponents, but not having the time or energy to make an end to the fight. Caelin burned to use a spell to take out one of the convicts, but she couldn't risk the spell flying out of control and taking out Liam instead.

            She was forced to watch in growing horror as Liam stumbled slightly on one of the many rocks in the path and lost his balance. The smaller convict immediately lunged at Liam, grappling him tightly as he dragged them both to the ground. They rolled around for several minutes, neither gaining the advantage. Caelin was shaking in fear when the bigger man finally stiffened and crumpled on top of Liam. Liam shoved the convict off with apparent difficulty and faced the final convict. The man, however, seemed to have a different idea. He took one look at his companion on the ground and backed off of Liam, turning to flee. Caelin jumped into motion and sent out the spell for the second time, grinning in satisfaction as the convict dropped like a stone.

            Caelin turned Diamond and trotted back over to Liam, who was standing with his back to her. When she was close enough, she crowed in delight, "That was great! You were amazing! Did you see how that last guy just dropped?" She forgot the fact that she and Liam were still on uncertain terms, too riled up from the fight to care about necessities. However, when Liam didn't respond, or even turn around, Caelin wondered if he was going to keep freezing her out of his life. For the past week, he had only spoken to her when it was absolutely necessary, preferring to keep to himself and ride in silence.

            _He's hurt_. Baron's succinct words stopped Caelin's train of thought in an instant, and she paled in fear.

            Caelin jumped off of Diamond's back, left the mare standing on the path, hoping she would have the sense not to run off, and ran around to face Liam. He unsuccessfully tried to turn away from her, but Caelin caught sight of a deep gash running from his upper chest all the way across his stomach and ending at his left hip. The wound was bleeding profusely and his shirt was ripped into tatters, with various other nicks and cuts left from the convict's many knives. "Liam! By the Goddess, are you all right?"

            "It's only a scratch," he attempted to joke, but Caelin could see him grimace as he spoke, and the blood dripping slowly down to the ground said otherwise.

            "Right," she muttered sarcastically, her mind whirling in panic as she wondered how she was going to help her companion. She wished she had listened more to Lianne talk about her healing lessons, but she'd only been interested in her own magic before. Now she was going to pay for her single mindedness with a vengeance. Wasn't this exactly what her teachers had been trying to prevent by teaching the students all together? "What are we going to do?" Caelin asked desperately, ripping off her traveling cloak and pushing it against the wound, at least knowing that the most important step was to stop the bleeding. "Should we try to find an inn?"

            "We just passed through a town a little while ago, and the farther north we get the fewer towns there'll be," Liam replied through clenched teeth. "We're going to have to push on as much as we can today, stop for the night, and then try to find somewhere tomorrow."

            "Can you ride?" Caelin countered, not sure if Liam was even capable of standing for much longer. He looked younger and much more fragile with his pinched white face under the shock of black hair.

            "I'll be fine," he replied, but as she helped him onto Teasel, he swayed in the saddle and was forced to grip the front tightly with both hands. When she protested, he gritted his teeth and yelled at her to get moving.

            Caelin tried not to be offended the anger in his tone, knowing that he was in pain and taking it out on her. They rode slowly, making sure the horses didn't lame themselves on the rocks, and, unspoken, making sure Liam would be able to ride.

            They made it about a half-mile down the twisting road before Liam finally admitted that he couldn't go on any longer. Caelin cursed the Black God and jumped off of the accommodating Diamond to rush over and support the prince with her body weight. Somehow, she managed to help him off of Teasel and settled him off the side of the road while she picketed the horses and set up a campfire.

            The light was dwindling steadily by the time Caelin had the fire roaring and had set up a shield to keep unwanted visitors from finding them. Liam remained quiet the entire time, not even uttering a word of complaint, or of protest. She wasn't sure that was a good thing though. Liam was not one to sit quietly when things weren't going his way, if only because of his princely upbringing.

            Once the shield was set, Caelin pawed through their packs until she found a canteen of water and bandages and brought them over to the tree Liam was propped up against. Luckily, Liam still seemed to be conscious as she said, "We've got to get a bandage on that wound, or else it'll get infected. I think."

            "You're right," Liam confirmed, first pulling away Caelin's cloak, which was stained with blood, and then his tattered shirt. At any other time, this would have taken Caelin's breath away, but as it was, she could only stare in horror at the deep gash. It was only bleeding sluggishly now, but Caelin had no way of telling if that was a good sign or a bad one.  Silently grateful that she wasn't squeamish about blood, Caelin first cleaned the wounds out with water and then unwrapped the bandages and rewrapped them tightly up Liam's torso, making sure they were snug, but not so tight that he couldn't breathe. For his part, Liam was an excellent patient, only making remarks to help her bandage properly, since he at least had seen wounds while acting as Sir Raoul's squire and knew how to take care of them.

            Once the wound was properly bound, Caelin brought Liam a new shirt and set out their bedrolls. Caelin assumed Liam would want to sleep and try to recover his strength, but the prince, as always, acted in his own unique way and remained sitting up, his eyes trained on her as she finished readying the camp for the night. One good thing about using spells on the road was her ability to keep the camp warm; it wouldn't do to have Liam freeze during the night in the late winter air.

            Caelin was just returning to her bedroll when she realized that Liam was still awake, and that he was staring at her intensely. "What?" She asked nervously, not quite sure what to make of his actions. Lately, she felt like she didn't know Liam at all. "Do you need something?"

            "No," he said simply, infuriatingly.

            "Then what are you doing?"

            "Watching."

            "Why?"

            "Because I want to."

            "And you're planning to do this all night?" Caelin shot back sarcastically, hiding her unease with a barbed remark.

            "Well, it sure beats thinking about the fiery pain running up my side," he responded dryly. Caelin felt slightly contrite as he continued, "You know, this is the most we've talked all week. If I'd known all it took was getting a gash in the side, I would have picked one up before now."

            "You think it's my fault we haven't been talking?" Caelin demanded, shocked. "I thought you didn't want to talk to me?"

            "Where would you get that idea? You're the one that should be mad at me. I was evil. Horrible. Awful. I slept with one of Tortall's greatest enemies. Worst of all, I hurt you. I thought you didn't want to talk to me, weren't sure if our relationship would ever be fixed. So I thought I'd give you time, let you decide if you were going to forgive me."

            Caelin shook her head in amazement. "And I thought you were mad at me because I overreacted to the spell. I know you didn't mean what you said, I was just upset." She paused. "You didn't mean them, did you?"

            "Never. Isn't it obvious that I care about you?" He lifted his wrist and revealed the phoenix bracelet on his wrist. "I think this is the only thing that kept me from being chopped in two today."

            "You practically are chopped in half anyway," Caelin grumbled, but she felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her chest. Just seeing Liam's trademark smile, instead of a blank face devoid of emotion, was enough to lift her spirits.

            "I'll be good as new in a few days. Come here." Liam motioned for Caelin to come over and sit with him on his bedroll. She did so hesitantly, not sure what exactly the prince was thinking. As soon as she sat, he wrapped one strong arm around her waist and drew her against his right side, which was the only part of him that wasn't wounded. The warmth of his body and the closeness between them sent Caelin's heart racing in erratic patterns. Beneath the warm layers of clothes, her skin tingled in awareness.

            She turned her head slightly to face him in the darkness, and before she knew it, his face descended and their lips met for the second time. The first kiss they had shared had been brief, only a flash of the fire that ignited when they met again. The world spun in circles as his lips caressed hers, mimicking the motion of his fingers stroking her cheek. She couldn't even describe what she felt, how she felt. She only knew that she was happier than she had ever been in her life before. Eventually Liam pulled up, breathing heavily. "I guess kissing isn't the greatest activity to engage in when you're wounded," he laughed quietly, "but then, I can't seem to stop." This time when his lips descended they were more demanding, searching and seeking for answers. Caelin didn't know how to answer, but it seemed to her that Liam found the answer he was looking for. He pulled up again, and sighed in contentment. "At the risk of sounding like a very bad romance novel, I've been wanting to do that for a while."

            "The feeling is mutual," she said with a laugh, still breathless and lightheaded. Giddy.  Silence descended on the night, and Caelin would have been perfectly content except for a question nagging at her heart. She didn't want to ruin the moment, but it was something that needed to be answered. "What are we?" She found herself blurting out. Immediately she wished she could rip her tongue out, but the damage was already done. Liam seemed to stiffen, but his voice was relatively calm as he answered,

            "What do you want us to be?"

            "That's hardly fair, I asked first. It's about time we got this straightened out."

            "Fine. I think you're brave, intelligent, beautiful, amazing, wonderful...I could go on. But I'm not sure what we are, or what we can ever be. I know I don't care about rank, but it's expected that I'm going to have to make an alliance marriage. Roald did, Kally did, and my father's already working on negotiations for Lianne. People have already approached him with potential matches for me. He waited until I earned my shield, but now...I anticipate that once this war is over he'll expect me to marry for the good of the kingdom. With the way things are going now, who I marry and the alliance it brings could be crucial."

            Caelin was silent. Somehow in the deep recesses of her mind, she had known what Liam's answer would be. There was really no other answer to be found. He was a prince, and he had his duty. She was only a commoner, even if she was a mage. He needed to marry for the good of his kingdom, and she would never be considered a proper match for him. Still, it hurt; more than she thought was possible. "So what are you saying?" She asked, needing to have all the answers at once. "Are we destined to just be friends, then?"

            "It doesn't have to be that way," Liam answered quietly, unsure of how she would respond. "There are...ways of getting around arranged marriages. It's commonly known that most couples resulting from arranged marriages have other...arrangements."

            Caelin froze and her eyes spit fire as she demanded, "Please tell me you aren't suggesting that I become your mistress. You have to know that I would never do that. Ever."

            "But it could work," Liam pleaded, feeling her start to pull away. "I know it isn't ideal, but wouldn't it be worth it? So we could be together?"

            "What, always feeling like I'm the one that came in second? The one who always gets set aside? The one you hide in shame, while you parade your real wife around like a porcelain doll? Setting aside my studies just to be your toy? How can you claim to care about me if you expect me to subject myself to that?"

            "Oh, so I suppose I should just ignore my duty because you're too afraid of a few sacrifices? Don't be so selfish. I've spent my entire life serving my kingdom. I deserve to have some happiness. Is that too much to ask out of you?" Liam pleaded, not knowing that his words echoed the same ones his father had spoken many years ago.

            Caelin clenched her jaw in anger and refrained from smacking Liam, if only because he was wounded. "Don't you ever say I haven't sacrificed myself for this kingdom. I'm risking my life and my happiness, which is more than you can say. At least if the plan goes wrong you'll be well away from any potential danger." With that, Caelin wrenched away from Liam and stalked over to her bedroll, settling into it and lying on her side so she didn't have to face the angry prince. She was shaking in rage, and she imagined Liam was just as furious with her. A tear dripped slowly down her cheek, and she felt weak and drained from the series of emotions she had experienced in such a short period of time. Fear, worry, the heights of happiness, and the depths of misery.

            "We'll stop here for the night."

            The quiet, clipped words broke the silence of the darkening night. Caelin jumped, the unexpected words startling her out of a haze of thoughts. She avoided looking at Liam and nodded, trusting that he didn't care whether or not she agreed with him. For the first time since they had arrived in the medium sized town, Caelin looked up and surveyed her surroundings.

            Whitehedge was a moderately large town located in a mountainous, rocky region of Tortall. The town itself was made up mostly of houses filled with shepherding families. Whitehedge was renowned throughout Tortall and the surrounding Kingdoms for producing superior woolen products. Besides shepherd families, cloth makers, seamstresses, and merchants also resided in the town for the sole purpose of making profit from the Whitehedge sheep. Then, too, there were the many taverns that were the sole entertainment for the people in the isolated town and the refuge for the traders who passed through the mountains to buy Whitehedge goods from the source.

            Liam had stopped in front of a large, bustling inn that was already rapidly filling up with customers. Caelin was slightly surprised, since she assumed Liam would want to avoid any unnecessary attention, but then, she supposed he wouldn't want to spend the entire night not speaking to her. It seemed like the rest of their journey would follow along on that vein as it was.

            Caelin suppressed a sigh of discontent and dismounted. As she took hold of Diamond's reins and prepared to lead the mare to the inn's stable, she couldn't help but watch and make sure Liam dismounted without any trouble. Three days had passed since the convicts' attack, and although the wound hadn't been infected yet, Caelin knew it still caused him pain. Of course, he didn't tell her that, but while he was studiously ignoring her, she could watch him without fear of detection. She noticed the faint whiteness to his face, the way he cringed when he moved the wrong way or too quickly. They were lucky they'd reached Whitehedge when they had, because Caelin was doubtful that he could have gone on for another day.

            A small, pixie faced boy met them as they entered the stable and took the horses from them before directing them to the inn's entrance, where they would meet the innkeeper and negotiate prices for the night's lodging. As soon as they entered, Caelin was buffeted by the smell of smoke and alcohol and the noise coming from the inn's many customers. From the sounds of the bawdy song being sung, Caelin guessed that the inn would hardly be a restful place to spend the night.

            The innkeeper was a large, red-faced man with a belly that wobbled as he walked and a shaggy gray beard. However, his small, dark eyes were shrewd as he gazed at them, trying to assess their status and whether or not they would be able to properly pay him. "Good evening. What can I do for ye?" His voice was deep and the thick mountain accent made it difficult, though not impossible, to understand him.

            "We'd like two rooms for the night, tonight's dinner, and breakfast in the morning. Also, stabling for our two horses."

            "Aye, that's well, but we've only one room f'the night. All filled up."

            Liam stiffened and his voice was hard as he pressed, "Are you sure? Surely you have two extra rooms." Caelin whispered a swift prayer to the Goddess, knowing that sharing a room with Liam would be intolerable.

            Apparently the Goddess had other worries, because the innkeeper shrugged and answered, "No sir, nothin' but the one. Two coppers f'the meals, five fer th'room. Pay five now, four come mornin'."

            Liam muttered something about extortion under his breath as he dug out the requisite number of coins, though really, for a prince it was nothing, and then asked casually, "Do you know where I could find a healer?"

            The innkeeper's eyes lit up in curiosity, but apparently he knew better than to pry, because he simply replied, "You've luck to ye, lad. M'wife's the midwife and healer. Won't find any better," he added with a touch of pride in his voice. "I'll send her up to th'room in a minute. Garet," he suddenly roared, his voice almost shaking the foundations of the inn. Seconds later, another small boy ran up, his cheeks pink from the heat of the inn's common room. "Show them to the empty room and then fetch th'bags from Landi. Don't dawdle none, either." With that, the innkeeper headed back into the common room.

            The small boy led them to the room hastily, experience having taught him not to delay when the innkeeper ordered him to perform a task. He left them with a clumsy bow, returned through several trips with their many packs, and then disappeared, all without saying a word.

            Caelin looked around the room for lack of something better to do, and noted thankfully that it seemed to be free of any infestations or dirt. From experience back in Harowyn, Caelin knew that inns tended to have quite a few hygienic problems. While Caelin was busy surveying the room, Liam stripped of his shirt in preparation for the healer's arrival. Caelin was exceedingly glad when a sharp knock on the door heralded her arrival.

            The healer turned out to be a plump, matronly looking woman with a forceful, motherly personality. From her more common accent, she had probably been raised near Corus. As soon as Caelin ushered her in, she turned sharp eyes to Liam and clucked over his wound. "Now, that's a nasty one indeed. Young people these days. Just how did you get that, young sir? Never mind, I'm sure it's none of my business. But if you don't mind me saying, you ought to be more careful. You won't be able to protect your young lady here if you aren't careful." The woman quieted and turned her attention to Liam's wound. Several minutes later, she wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and said, "Well, how's that then?"

             Liam looked down at his chest and seemed pleased by what he saw; there was still a visible mark on his chest and down to his hip, but the wound was closed and surrounded by new pink skin. Eventually the wound would fade to only a faint scar. Liam sighed gratefully and said, "It feels wonderful. I thank you, lady. What do you charge?"

            The old woman looked at Liam thoughtfully, and then shook her head. "Nothing for you, lad. Just take care of your young lady there. It would be a shame to lose one like her." With that, she excused herself and left the room. For a minute Caelin and Liam sat in the room, the woman's words echoing in their head, before Liam abruptly stood up from the bed and headed out of the room, probably for the common room downstairs. Caelin stared after him angrily, feeling as if he should have said something to her, but then she made a decision.

            "I'm not going to spend the rest of this trip tiptoeing around him. If Liam wants to be difficult about this, than let him, but he's not going to ruin my night." With that, Caelin left the room with every intention of having an entertaining, enjoyable night.

            "Where did you say you were from?" Caelin had to shout above the raucous yells pervading the inn's common room as she focused on the dark man standing in front of her. He was a few years older than she was and the darkest person she had every seen in her life. His skin was brown, practically bordering on black. Everything about him screamed foreigner, but Caelin had seen enough people from the Copper Isles to know that he wasn't one of the enemy.

            "Carthak," the man, Hansi, answered with an easy grin. "I'm here on an official buying trip for the emperor. He's interested in bringing Whitehedge sheep back to Carthak and seeing if they'll thrive."

            The emperor. Caelin thought back to her studies, and recalled that the emperor of Carthak was Kaddar, a staunch Tortallan ally, and Kalasin's husband. Daine had told Caelin stories about her time in Carthak, including tales of the very young emperor who, rumor had it, although Daine had never admitted it, would have been willing to make Daine an empress.

            "And where is a lovely lass such as yourself from? Your hair is as golden as the sun on a bright morning and your eyes more beautiful than the lotus flowers of my home. One such as yourself would be considered a goddess in Carthak."

            Caelin blushed a cheerful red, and even though she didn't put much store in Hansi's words, it was nice to hear someone complement her. Liam had never spoken to her in such a poetic way. She frowned and looked across the room to where Liam was sitting at a small table, but hardly alone. No less than five serving girls were crowded around his table, flirting outrageously. Every time one of them left to deliver a drink, another would take the vacated space. It was making Caelin sick.

            "Harowyn," she replied with a flirtatious smile, deciding to beat Liam at his own game. "But I've been living in Corus recently. It's a wonderful city."

            "Would that I could show you the delights of Carthak, lady," Hansi answered smoothly. "The beaches are magnificent, the countryside breathtaking, the cities beyond anything you could ever imagine...some day, you must promise to come visit me and let me show you my beautiful empire."

            "Of course," Caelin replied with a laugh, knowing she would probably never have the chance to travel to the famed empire, but enjoying the game nonetheless.

            Hansi continued to describe his homeland in great detail, and then started asking questions about her life, which she answered without hesitation. From the corner of her eye, she could see Liam, and knew he was paying no attention to her, but somehow she felt like she had to continue talking to Hansi anyway, if only to prove a point to herself; she could live without Liam just as well as he could live without her.

            "Would you like to walk outside with me, Keeper of my Heart? The air is warm tonight."

            Caelin hesitated. Innocent flirtation was one thing, but going for a walk in the dark of night with an absolute stranger? She had more sense than that. Despite her misgivings, her mind was made up when she saw one of the serving girls lean in for a kiss from Liam. She could hardly believe he had moved on so quickly, and the sight left a burning sensation inside her that became all consuming.

            "I would love too," she answered Hansi with another charming smile. The dark man grinned in positive delight and led her outside the common room. Caelin smirked in Liam's general direction when the prince happened to tear himself away from his serving girl and notice her departure. _There_, she thought vindictively, _that should get his attention._

            Caelin followed Hansi into the cold night air and wondered briefly where the Carthaki would be taking her. They walked together for several minutes, continuing their pleasant discussion from inside, and Caelin felt more at ease. "Will you come to the stable with me, Flower? I must check my horses and see if they've been well cared for."

            Caelin agreed, thinking that she could check on Diamond and Teasel while Hansi checked his horses. As they stepped into the dimly lit barn, she had no warning before Hansi's fist connected with her head and his hand clamped tightly over her mouth. For a moment her vision swirled, but soon she regained control and struggled violently against the large man, trying not to panic, but feeling the familiar threads work their way up her stomach and towards her throat.

            _Not again_, she thought desperately as she tried to pry his hand off her mouth. _I won't let them take me again_. The magic was waiting for her to call it, raging against the shields that restrained it from wreaking havoc on Hansi. It would be so easy, so painless to call upon it to destroy him. All it took was a slight pull...

            Blood. Smoke. Melted weapons. The stench of death.

            Caelin wordlessly cried out and shoved her magic behind an impenetrable shield. She would not kill again. She couldn't.

            While she struggled with her inner need to fight back, she became aware that Hansi was speaking to her in a low voice, but no less smooth and polished than before. "Now, now, Lotus Blossom, don't struggle. I wouldn't want to ruin your beautiful face. With hair as blond and eyes as blue as yours, you'll fetch a pretty price on the market. Although I must admit, it will be a shame to give you up...ah well, such is business. Up you go."

            Hansi swung Caelin onto the back of one of his horses and held her firmly on the animal until he led it outside. While he was explaining his plans to sell her, Hansi had bound her ankles and wrists together and both gagged and blindfolded her with a wide strip of cloth. Desperately Caelin tried to regain the freedom of her arms and legs, but the bonds were tight. Hansi mounted the horse and urged it forward, down the road and away from the inn.

            Caelin had only one last hope. With all her mental strength, she sent a call to Baron, out hunting in the mountains. Faintly, from very far away, she 'heard' an answering call. She could only hope that Baron was able to warn Liam in time.

            If the mountainous road had seemed bumpy before, it was now twice as uncomfortable being slung over the back of the horse and not properly riding. To keep from panicking and losing hope, Caelin instead berated herself over her complete stupidity. It was easier to remain angry with herself than contemplate what her future and Tortall's future would be like if Hansi had his way.

            They had been riding for twenty minutes when hoof beats sounded on the road. Hansi urged his mount to higher speeds, but carrying two people and supplies, the overloaded horse didn't have the physical ability to move any faster. The sounds came closer and closer until they passed by and stopped in front of them. Hansi wrenched his mount to a halt and peered through the darkness to the shape in front of him.

            "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

            "I suggest you put my friend down now." Liam's voice was deadly poisonous, filled with malice and tightly controlled fury.

            "She's mine. If you want her, you'll have to take her from me."

            Caelin found herself flying through the air as Hansi launched her from his horse's side and she landed on the hard ground with a thud. Groaning, she squirmed feebly and listened to the fight raging just a few feet away from her. Both men were silent, only the sounds of their grunts, heaving breathing, and feet moving across the ground revealed that anything was disturbing the night.

            Finally, there came a shocked gasp, a moan, and the sound of a body falling limply to the ground. Immediately someone rushed over, and Caelin knew it was Liam as he undid her bonds and released the gag and the blindfold from her face. As her vision cleared and she looked up at his face, dark on one side and light from the moon reflected on the other, she saw limitless rage.

            "Are you trying to bloody well get yourself killed?" Liam whispered roughly. "Do you have any sense at all? What were you doing with him? Why did you start talking to him in the first place? And for Mithros's sake, why didn't you use your magic to stop him? If you're this helpless in an emergency situation, we might as well turn around and head back to Corus, because you won't last a day in the City of the Gods."

            Liam's condescending tone combined with the traumatic events of the night was enough to send Caelin over the edge. Roughly she pulled away from him and stood up abruptly. "I didn't want to kill him. That's why I didn't use my magic. I won't make the mistake again. But don't ever act like I'm making you come with me. You could turn back at any time. I would be perfectly happy if I never saw you again, Liam of Conté."

            Caelin stalked back down the road to the inn, leaving the prince standing silent in the darkness. It took almost an hour for her to return, and she immediately headed up to her room after her arrival, not wanting any more confrontation for the night. Once she was safely tucked into her room, she collapsed onto the bed in despair, tears welling out of the corner of her eyes.

            _Maybe Liam's right_, she thought desperately. _How could I have been so careless? I risked my entire kingdom because of my own pathetic jealousy. How can I expect to save it all by myself? This is hopeless._

            Caelin wasn't aware of the door slowly creaking open, or the person that padded softly into the room. She was so caught up in her misery that she didn't realize anyone was there until Liam sat gently onto the bed next to her. Immediately she tensed again, wondering if he was coming to deliver another lecture. Just what she needed at the moment.

            "I'm sorry," was instead the soft whisper in the dark room. "I didn't mean to yell at you that much. I was just worried. That man, he was a Carthaki slave dealer. He was probably planning to sell you in the slave markets in Carthak. You would have been lost."

            "Why do you care?" Caelin sniffled, hating herself for sounding so lost and forlorn. She was supposed to be strong. "You hate me."

            "I suppose I haven't given you any reason to think otherwise the past few days, especially not with that scene in the inn tonight. But I don't hate you. I can't, and believe me, I wanted to, these past few days. It would have been so much easier." Caelin said nothing. His words were too good to be true. She didn't trust them. "I'm sorry for the things I said the other night. It was completely unfair of me to consider asking you to be my mistress, and for not appreciating what you've given up to help save Tortall. I just can't ever seem to get things right with you."

            Caelin sighed, but she didn't flip over to face Liam either. Her voice was muffled as she said, "We were both wrong. But nothing has changed. We still have the same problems."

            "Maybe those problems won't ever be solved. But do you want us to deny our feelings and what little happiness we can have for now? In all likelihood, we won't survive this anyway. You've said so yourself. No harm would come from our happiness, even if it is brief."

            What Liam was proposing was...dangerous. If, miraculously, they both survived and Tortall managed to live to tell the tale, parting would be that much more painful if they shared a brief time together now. Her entire life, she would be tortured by the knowledge of what she was missing. And yet...happiness was not something she had known for a great amount of time in her life. She wouldn't let that chance slip away.

            Finally, Caelin turned onto her back and regarded Liam solemnly. The prince looked nervous, awaiting her words with a troubled expression carved into his face. "You don't smile enough anymore." The statement was simple, and Caelin had no wish to elaborate any further. It was not a promise, it was not a declaration, it was a simple statement; but to Liam, it meant much more.

            Slowly, a smile spread across his face and the anxious look disappeared from his green eyes. In one smooth motion he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Once again that spark flashed between them, igniting a maelstrom of feelings and sensations Caelin could never have imagined existed. She was like a leaf caught in the tempest of a violent storm, and yet she felt safer than she could behind the thickest of castle walls. She was lost and found in a matter of seconds.

            The kiss was deep and filled with the withheld passions of the past few days. Caelin thought rather giddily that she could have kept kissing him all night and never gotten tired. However, the moment was interrupted when a smug voice interposed itself into both their minds_. It's about time you two finally figured things out. I was afraid I would have to do something drastic._

            Caelin laughed into Liam's mouth and then reluctantly pulled away. _I'm glad you're satisfied_, she responded to the phoenix.

            _You should be. As glad as I am that you've finally reached your senses, I'm going to have to break up the moment. You two need to sleep, because we have to leave early tomorrow. We've wasted too much time as it is._

            Baron's solemn orders were disappointing, but as much as it hurt to admit, the phoenix was right. The hour was already late, and they had been planning to make an early start in the morning. Liam, too, was disappointed, and heaved an elaborate sigh of regret. Caelin laughed at him, and then shrieked when he reached out and pulled her close to his side on the bed. The contour of her body fit against him perfectly, as if they had been made for each other. Despite the fact that the most dangerous part of their mission was coming soon, and the knowledge that the happiness was short-lived, Caelin basked in the feelings of safety and content that were flowing through her veins, feelings that had been absent for far too long in her life.


	11. Espionage, Allies, and an Unexpected Sur...

**Chapter Ten: Espionage, Allies, and an Unexpected Surprise**

            Wind buffeted the hood Caelin had pulled up around her blond hair as if it was trying to release the hair and let it fly free in the cold morning air. She shivered and stepped onto the path leading into the City of the Gods, knowing perfectly well that no one could see her. Still, it felt like thousands of eyes were boring into her as she stepped behind a group of farmers bringing their goods into the city. They were a drab, quiet group of men and women, solemn and downcast as they shuffled through the gigantic, thick gates separating the City of the Gods from the surrounding countryside. Caelin, keeping close behind the last cart, filed through the gate unnoticed.

            The first impression she had of the city was that it was filled to the brim with Copper Islanders. Everywhere soldiers swaggered about looking perfectly smug in their domination of the city, servants wandered around buying for their masters or mistresses, and even a few nobles walked through the mazelike streets of the city.

            _I guess we know where all the nobles disappeared to from Corus now_, Caelin thought as she recognized several of the nobles who had stayed in the palace, and even some of the servants. Of course, even if she didn't have an invisibility spell wrapped tightly around her, they wouldn't have recognized Caelin.

            The City of the Gods was a giant warren of a city, filled with twisting and turning passages and corridors that Caelin expected would lead somewhere different every time you tried to follow them. Various shops, inns, and houses were nestled throughout the city's winding streets, but the general trend seemed to lead to the University and the School. The city, after all, had grown up gradually around the prestigious place of learning.

            _The people do not look happy_, Baron observed from high above Caelin's head. The phoenix had offered to come with Caelin on her initial expedition into the city so he could report back to Liam, who was waiting just outside the gates, on what happened to her.

            _I should expect they aren't_, Caelin thought back grimly, looking around with saddened eyes at the faces of the people around her. Just like the farmers she had followed into the city, the inhabitants of the City of the Gods all appeared nervous and depressed, as if every day they wondered what new horrors they would see. _The Islanders have broken their spirits, every one of them. They're probably too far gone to even think about rising up against them, not to mention there aren't enough soldiers to combat the number running around here._ To Caelin, it seemed like every other person she saw was a uniformed, outfitted Islander soldier.

            _What is your plan? You can't just let the mages catch you,_ Baron reminded Caelin as she wove carefully among the shop stalls, trying not to bump into anyone and cause a panic.

_            I'm going to take off my glamour and concentrate on looking really hungry. Eventually they'll send someone after me; I'm sure of it._

            Caelin could certainly play the part. She was wearing a tattered gray cloak and had smeared dirt and soot all over her face and in her hair, making sure she looked as pathetic and lost as possible. Magically speaking, her aura was screaming out 'I'm a poor, helpless, extremely powerful mage with absolutely no training or defenses.'

            Before she dropped her last shields and made sure any half trained mage could sense her presence, she double-checked the bottom layer shield she had been working on. It was an ingenious invention, designed to leave enough of a loophole for a mage to think he was draining her, but protecting the core part of her magic and preventing too much drainage. It wasn't ideal, but it would allow Caelin to seem like she was subdued when she really wasn't.

            _Here it goes_, she mentally muttered to Baron as she released every one of her shields except the last one. Then she sat down to wait. Caelin picked the doorstep to a particularly shabby inn and hunkered down within it to watch the streets warily, looking for all the world like a street rat.

            Twenty minutes, and then forty, passed by without any sign of disturbance in the streets. Caelin was beginning to wonder if all her plans were for nothing when she caught sight of a division of soldiers walking briskly through the streets directly towards her. When it became obvious to Caelin (and all of the other nervous civilians on the street) that the soldiers were headed for her, Caelin darted up, wild eyed, and shot off down the street. She wasn't really trying to escape, of course, just trying to make her cover less hole-proof. Someone would probably be suspicious if she appeared eager to be captured.

            Her heart was pounding rhythmically in her ears as she sprinted down the street and in between the various merchant stands. Faces blurred together as she wove through the crowd. She could hear shouts behind her, so she knew the soldiers were still after her, but she wondered if they would catch her if she kept running so fast. She slowed her pace slightly, and didn't have to wait long after that before something hard and heavy slammed into the back of her head and everything went black.

            Caelin shifted and groaned as a stream of icy cold water plunged onto her face, dragging her back from the realms of black she was drowning in. Her eyes shot open and stared into a tall man with a thin face and graying hair. He wore slightly more fancy livery than most of the soldiers she had seen on the streets, so Caelin assumed he was an officer of some sort in the army.

            Without a word or a hint of expression on his face, the man dragged Caelin to her feet and down a long gray hall into another room, dropping her unceremoniously onto the floor again before moving back to the door and taking up a guard position.

            "Well, what do we have here?" A melodic voice reached Caelin's ears from the center of the room and she struggled to her knees, a mutinous expression on her face. In front of her was one of the most beautiful men Caelin had ever seen; he had dark hair that was so black it had a bluish tint, brilliant green eyes, and an aristocratically refined face. He was tall and lithe, and gave the impression of having an extreme amount of energy coiled in his long limbs, energy that could explode at any time.

            He made her skin crawl. "Who are you?" Caelin demanded roughly, her eyes darting around the room nervously, as if searching for an escape route. "What are you doin' with me?"

            "My name is Lord Damian of Alasaria, and you have been brought to me because you are a very special little girl."

            "I never known no lords before," Caelin answered with feigned astonishment, and some amount of fear. "And I ain't special."

            "Oh but you are, my dear, more special than you could ever imagine. You have the Gift."

            "I don't see no gift for me," Caelin said in suspicion, glancing around the room for some invisible present.

            The mage laughed, sending chills up Caelin's spine. "Not that kind of gift, child, but a magical gift. You have magic."

            "Huh," Caelin responded succinctly. "So what?"

            "Do you have a name, little one? And a family?" Lord Damian switched tactics abruptly.

            "Aria. And I never had no family. Just me."

            "I suppose that's a hard life, isn't it, living all by yourself? You don't look like you get much food, and your clothes are pretty worn, aren't they?"

            "Yeah, so what? I been living like this for a long time."

            "Well, what if I said you could live with me, here in the school, for as long as you like?"

            Caelin allowed a spec of interest and greed to show in her eyes. "Really? Ya mean it? Whatya want in return?"

            "Just your service, and your permission to use your magic. I would never take that unless you wanted me to."

            "I can stay here? And get food?"

            "As much as you would like. All you need is to say yes."

            "Take what you want. I don't need it none."

            "Excellent." Lord Damian's eyes glinted sharply and he wasted no time sending a bolt of power to Caelin and attaching it to her own magic. The mage was much stronger than Caelin had been expecting, and for one terrible minute she felt her carefully laid defenses trembling under the assault, but they steadied and held under the pressure. Unlike before when she'd been tapped, instead of feeling like her magic was bleeding out of her, now it was just a slow trickle.

            Lord Damian seemed pleased. He called for the guard and with a flick of his wrist, motioned for the man to take Caelin away. 

            "Ouch," Caelin groaned as the solemn faced guard shoved her roughly into a large room with a dusty stone floor. Her head knocked painfully against the ground, in the same place on her head she'd been hit earlier.

            There were several faint shuffling noises and the sound of muffled whispers reached Caelin's ears. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked around in astonishment. She was in a huge room bear of all furniture but worn sleeping rolls, and filled to the brim with children. There must have been at least fifty, perhaps more, all between the ages of six and sixteen. They were a sad looking group, with pale, pinched faces and dark eyes that looked out sorrowfully from hollow sockets. Most sat on their sleeping rolls, quiet. A few sat in small groups and talked quietly among themselves. Some, however, the ones who looked the most exhausted and ill, lay on their sleeping rolls and didn't move at all.

            Caelin felt first a flash of hot anger for the mages who were slowly sucking the life out of the children, and then a wave of panic. She hadn't expected this many children; at most, she thought there would be twenty or twenty-five. Not fifty. Caelin wasn't sure she had enough energy and power to help craft shields for fifty children, not to mention the time it would take to wrest them all from the control of the mages. It would take weeks and weeks, time in which the mages would be using the stolen power to advance ever closer to the Tortallan capitol.

            "Are you all right?" a voice inquired from somewhere behind Caelin. She swung about and found herself face to face with a young girl, probably around fourteen years old, with a thin face and short brown hair. She was dressed, like all the other children, in faded and torn clothes. Next to her was a younger boy of about eleven with dirty blond hair and a round face that hadn't quite grown out of the chubbiness of early childhood.

            "I think so," Caelin said hesitantly. She hadn't quite figured this part of her plan out yet; did she proclaim to the children that she was their savior right away and get their hopes up, or did she keep up her false persona until she learned her way around? "Where am I?"

            "You're in the main dining hall of the City of the Gods," the younger boy informed her, sitting down with a bump on the ground next to Caelin. His companion settled slowly with slightly more grace; or was that because she couldn't expend more energy? "They caught you."

            "Who caught me?" she inquired again, deciding it would be best to keep her secret until she found whom she could trust.

            "The Copper Islanders," the girl answered, spitting out the name as if it burned her tongue just saying it. "Who else would it be?"

            "Maybe you should tell me," Caelin replied belligerently. "I just came to the city today, looking for some place to bed down for the night, when a bunch of guys started chasing me. I just kept running, thought maybe they took me for a thief. Wouldn't be the first time. Who're these Islanders?"

"They're foreigners, from some big old island. They're trying to take over everything. They've been at the city for months now, and no one's been able to warn the king. They killed all the Masters," the boy said sorrowfully, his eyes dark with remembered sadness. From the way he talked, it sounded like the boy was educated; he had probably been a student at the school when the attack came.

            "What do they want with me though?"

            "You ever done anything strange? Things happen when you get mad?" Caelin nodded affirmatively. "You got magic then, same as the rest of us," the girl answered with a jerk of her head, the motion encompassing all the children in the room. "They've been snatching us up for months and stealing our magic."

            "What do they need it for? What's magic gonna help in taking over the kingdom?"

            "They can summon monsters, and keep the soldiers hidden, and attack our troops with it, that's what," the boy responded scornfully, smug in his superior knowledge of the magical arts. "But they aren't any match for Tortall sorcerers, so they keep us locked in here and steal our magic until we die." The boy was blunt, but his eyes reflected the depths of the horrors he'd seen in his months of captivity. "All my friends are dead now. I'm the only one left."

            Caelin discreetly checked the boy and was impressed by the depth of magic he held; that was the only lifeline that had prevented him from dying with the rest of his friends. Even so, eventually his natural store would run out and he would be defenseless. "So what do we do?"

            "Nothing," the girl answered with a defeated laugh. "There's nothing to do and nowhere to go. We stay here all night, and those of us that can still move around are slaves for the nobles. We get one meal a day, but you've probably had better on the streets. That's all."

            "Why can't we escape?" Caelin pressed, looking for a tiny glimmer of hope. "There are only a few guards around; I bet we could take 'em if we all went together!"

            The boy pointed across the room to the entrance Caelin had been thrown through. She followed his arm and hissed in surprise; a multi-colored barrier sealed the room from any outside contact. Through the shield she could see guards, but there was no way to get to them. The shield was surrounded by black scorch marks, and Caelin had no need to ask what the marks came from.

            _What am I going to do_? she thought to herself desperately. _Even if I manage to help all the kids, I won't have the energy to break that shield down._

            "I bet those stupid mages aren't half as strong as my old Masters," the boy was saying, again in that scornful voice. "It took fifty of 'em just to kill five of my masters. I bet even I could take them if they weren't filthy thieves."

            _That's it_! she thought in excitement. _I bet none of those mages are powerful, except for Lord Damian. Once they aren't leaching magic anymore, that shield will come down easily. I hope._ "What are your names?" Caelin said out loud to her two companions. "I'm Aria."

            "Quinn," the girl answered.

            "Hessilfer of Amenia," the boy responded proudly. Now Caelin understood the boy's arrogance; he was a noble. Amenia was a small but prosperous fief close to Harowyn. "But I guess you can me Hess; that's what everyone does anyway." The arrogance faded away, leaving only a small boy desperately trying not to fall prey to his fear.

            Caelin hesitated for a minute; what if her plan didn't work? She didn't want to raise Quinn or Hess's hopes. But she knew she would need them to accomplish anything. Her mind made up, Caelin scooted closer across the floor and looked solemnly into their eyes. "I haven't been quite truthful with either of you. I'm not just a street rat; I'm a mage. I've been training in Corus all winter with the most powerful sorcerers in the land. And I've come to help you."

            Quinn's eyes brightened and Hess opened his mouth to say something. Before he could, Caelin put a hand across his mouth and warned, "Don't say anything; the others can't know, not yet at least. But I think I have a plan to get us out of here." Quickly Caelin outlined her plan to the two youngsters in front of her, speaking quickly and quietly.

            "Do you really think it'll work?" Quinn asked when she was done, hope shining in her eyes.

            "I think it might, with your help," she answered. "Hess, you're going to be my test. If I can manage to get the sapping spells off of you, then you'll be able to help me because you actually have some training. Then we'll do Quinn and work from there. I need you guys to find trustworthy kids from the bunch who know how to keep a secret. Not a word of this can get out. Can I count on you?"

            Two faces bobbed up and down fervently, looking with trust filled eyes at her like she was a hero of old come to save them. Caelin only hoped they hadn't misplaced their trust.

            Liam hunched over his warm cider and stared around the smoke-filled common room of the inn with shrewd eyes. To an observer, Liam looked like the kind of person you wanted to avoid on a quiet night; brooding, hard-faced, and dangerous. Which, of course, was exactly the way he wanted to look; it fit his persona of a free-lance mercenary perfectly.

            Because most of the patrons of the inn were avoiding Liam's small table, he was free to scan the room thoroughly. He was looking for a specific group of young men he had noticed come into the inn every night for the past week. He wasn't sure, but Liam suspected they were feeling hemmed in and trapped by the Copper Islanders' strangle hold on the city, which meant they were probably more than ready to rebel.

             There! Liam sat up a straighter when a group of four young men entered the inn and headed directly for a row of empty stools at the barkeeper's counter. After ordering drinks, the four young men began a fierce, whispered debate, dialoguing back and forth passionately, but still keeping a careful watch on their surroundings.

            Liam stretched and casually moved away from his table and towards the bar, where he deliberately selected a stool as close to the four young men as possible. He was pleased to see that they lowered their voices and stopped their discussion as soon as he approached. That meant they were smart, smart enough to avoid suspicion and possible detection.

            "Good evening," Liam directed in a pleasant voice to the young man closest to him. He was tall and blond with blue eyes, probably of Scanran descent.

            "And to you," the other man answered warily, his bright eyes scanning Liam intently. "You don't sound like you come from the city," he continued, his voice not quite accusing, but not quite friendly either. "Where do you hail from?"

            "Corus," Liam answered in a soft voice, leaning closer to the young man. "I've come to help."

            The bright blue eyes widened in surprise, but the young man admirably contained his emotion as he asked quietly, "Who sent you?"

            Liam shook his head, surprised at the man's immediate acceptance of his words. Maybe he wasn't as shrewd as he seemed. "Do you trust everyone you meet right away?" his voice deliberately harsh with a tiny hint of threat behind it.

            The man paled, and Liam noticed his three companions carefully reach for what he assumed were hidden weapons. Once again, though, his face reverted immediately to its guarded expression. "Do you think I'd be naïve enough to come to a place like this without backup? But I know you aren't a Copper Islander, so perhaps you should tell me who you are before I lose my patience."

            "Fair enough," Liam said, voice light again. "I've been watching you for a week now. I think you could be of use to me, but I needed to determine where your loyalties lie."

            "And?"

            "I think you would relish murdering every one of these bastards that have taken over your city," Liam replied calmly. "Which makes you dangerous, because you have all this anger boiling inside of you and no way to let it out, because you don't have a plan." He paused, and smiled ever so slightly. "I have a plan."

            Liam waited patiently as the blond man regarded him suspiciously. Something in his face must have seemed trustworthy, because eventually he nodded, ever so slightly. Following his lead, the three other men moved their hands away from their weapons.

            "We shouldn't talk here," he answered finally. "Do you know anywhere we can talk without being overheard?"

            "I have a room upstairs," Liam answered, pleased with the progress he was making. "No one will listen to us there; I'm paying enough money for my privacy."

            After exchanging looks one more time, the four young men followed Liam out of the inn's common room and up the creaking stairs into Liam's moderately sized and comfortably furnished room. Out of the dim lighting of the common room, Liam could see that one of the other boys was quite young, only about fifteen, and clearly related to the leader, who Liam had been talking with. The other two were probably around the same age as the first, with black and brown hair respectively.

"All right, we're out of hearing range. Who are you, and what do you want with us?"

            "My name is Liam, and I've come from the capital with a friend to try and rescue all of the captive children. Surely you know about them."

            "My sister is one of them," the man with the brown hair spoke up suddenly, his eyes filled with pain.

The blond leader glared at the speaker for the interruption, but answered, "You actually think you have a chance of rescuing those captives with only one other person to help? And how will rescuing a bunch of kids help free our city?"

            "Because the mages that control the city are draining power from the kids every moment of the day. If we take away the power source, we disrupt their control of the city, and maybe even the attack on Corus. My friend is a mage, and she's currently pretending to be one of the captured children, but she's really working from the inside out to get the kids out of the mages' control. Once she makes the escape attempt, she's going to need backup; that's where we come in."

            "We?" The blond asked warily, not looking particularly convinced by Liam's recitation. "Why should we trust you? Why should we risk our lives on, I'm sorry to say, a rather flawed plan?"

            "Flawed?" Liam responded indignantly, his pride slightly damaged. After all, as the son of the greatest king Tortall had seen in over a hundred years and a fully trained knight, he had a certain amount of confidence in his tactical skills. "How so?"

            "Well, for starters, even if your friend could manage to disrupt whatever spells are on those kids, it would take an army to get through all the guards around the University. There are at least 300 Islanders in the City, and 100 of them are stationed full time at the University. And, making the great assumption that you could get those kids out of there, what then? Not only would you have every Islander guard on your trail, but you would have to drag fifty sick kids to wherever it is you seem to think they would be welcome. Do you have that much food to supply them? Does anyone?"

            Liam was slightly taken back by the young man's shrewd assessment of the situation, and feeling more than a little daunted by the upcoming task. Still, he stood tall and maintained a confident but calm front as he said, "I respect your reservations, and I admit that my plan does seem a little crazy, but I'm afraid it's about the only chance Tortall has to defeat the Islanders. I'm depending upon Caelin, my friend, to take care of the guards catching us while inside the school. After that, I'll need you four to serve as guards and help with the kids. If we can steal some horses, that would make traveling easier. I have a rather large store of funds to buy supplies, and what we can't buy we'll hunt; spring is coming within the next few weeks, so the animals will be slow and stupid from hibernation. And don't worry about people being willing to take the children in; I'll handle that."

            "Not enough," the blond answered promptly, although some of the wariness was slowly leaving his face and his body language indicated that he was not as tense. "We can have no secrets if we're going to work together. Why exactly would strangers be willing to provide for children that, if they're discovered with them, will end in their imprisonment and possible death? I know I would be hesitant at the best, assume you were crazy at the worst, and probably turn you in right away in any event."

            This was the point Liam had been dreading. Life had been so much easier for the past few weeks living as just a normal person and not the second in line for the Tortallan throne. He would have reveled in his assumed role of surly mercenary if the situation hadn't been so dire. As it was, the freedom had been welcome. Still, there was no way to win the trust of the four young men unless he gave up all his secrets. "Well, they may not know me personally, but they most likely know of me, and certainly of my family and my father. Having the king of Tortall as my da does bring advantages and a certain notoriety."

            "You're Liam of Conté?" the youngest of the four, the bright blond, demanded incredulously. "The prince?"

            "None other," Liam responded wryly, having anticipated the shocked reaction.

            "Prove it," the blond leader countered immediately, looking shocked but trying to maintain control of the situation.

            Liam responded by rummaging in his packs and removing first the ring given to every Conté child at birth inscribed with the royal insignia, then his shield, which also had the royal symbol on it, and finally, and rather reluctantly, his crown, which was plain gold except for a single sapphire embedded on the front. "Is this proof enough? If not, I could recount to you the Conté history dating back to its origins 700 years ago, but the Islanders will have most likely taken over the entire kingdom by the time I'm through."

"No, I don't think that's necessary," the leader replied softly, obviously shocked. The other three seemed even more amazed, apparently waffling between staring open mouthed or bowing. The youngest managed to accomplish both. "May I ask, what in Mithros are you doing here trying to rescue the city, as opposed to staying safe in Corus? This isn't exactly a safe place for anyone to be, much less the prince of the whole gods-blasted kingdom!"

            "Well, I didn't exactly come here with my father's approval. Actually, he probably didn't realize what I was planning until after I left. They've got more things to worry about than a renegade prince though, and besides, I'm the expendable one. They'll keep Roald under tight wraps, and make sure he concentrates on producing a son. As long as he does that, I don't matter at all."

            The blond laughed at Liam's self-deprecating assertion and shook his head. "I knew the old duke was crazy, but I didn't know it ran in the family. You do realize that if things go badly for Corus, you're the only one left with Conté blood, don't you?"

            "Well, there is my father's third cousin twice removed, but nobody ever remembers him. So yes, I am the only one that could theoretically inherit the crown. But you know what? I don't really care. I came here to do something that needed to be done, and if I die in the trying, then so I die. I swore to care for those in need when I took my shield, and by Mithros, that's what I'm going to do." He paused, and added a little sheepishly, "Please note that this will be the only instance in which I give anything resembling a motivational speech. That's more my father's thing."

            "Duly noted," the blond answered with a laugh and the first smile Liam had seen him crack yet. "Well met, Liam of Conté. I expect introductions are in order. My name is Erik, and I was a journeyman blacksmith. Emmet, the runty looking one, is my younger brother. Our parents were killed in the first attack, along with my master. Our shop was destroyed."

            "I'm Quilum," the brown-haired man who had spoken earlier offered. "My sister Quinn was captured a few weeks after the first attack. I've heard nothing from her since."

            "And I'm Daryan," the last of the four finished. "My intended was raped and murdered by those scumbags." A flash of murderous rage passed over his face, leaving behind dark eyes that smoldered with intensity.

            "Well met indeed," Liam murmured in response to the introductions, realizing that while he was acting out of duty to his family and his country (and Caelin), his four companions had personal vendettas against the oppressors of their city. "Are you all willing to help me? I will think no less of you if you decide to back out, but I will insist on the right to kill you if you speak of our plans to anyone."

            "We are no cowards," Erik answered with a touch of indignation. "We're in this to the end."

            "Good. We're going to need all the help we can get if we have a hope of succeeding." Liam hadn't expected any of them to back out, but he was still reassured by the quickness and firm quality of Erik's response.

            "What do we do now?" Emmet asked, his eyes shining with fervor.

            "Now we wait, and we plan." 

            "Oi! You ten, come with me!"

            Caelin jumped in surprise at the harsh, grating voice of the guard, still not used to abrupt orders and yelled commands even after a week and a half of captivity. Caelin glanced at the nine other children around her, Hess and Quinn included, as she stood up and made her way across the giant, drab chamber to where the guard was standing, spear in hand and an unpleasant expression on his face. Of course, that was his typical expression, and if he ever cracked a smile, Caelin expected she would probably faint from the shock of it. Those nine children were the first of a total of fifty-seven that had been freed from the worst of the sapping spells. They were in general the strongest, oldest, and most trust-worthy of the group, picked by Caelin with advice from Hess and Quinn.

            So far everything had been going to plan except for one thing; Caelin hadn't accounted for the absolute and utter exhaustion she would be forced to work through. Besides having some of her magic drained by the mages and the rest being spent on lifting spells from the children, Caelin hardly slept because nights were reserved for making plans, her meals consisted of dirty water, moldy bread, and hard, rancid cheese, and every spare hour was spent slaving away for the Islander nobles, many of whom she had seen and even conversed with at the palace. Every inch of her skin was embedded with grime, and to her embarrassment, she was beginning to notice a distinct reek rising from her clothes and body when she was working in the noble's rooms and away from the general stink of the chamber the children were kept in. Along with the exhaustion and terrible conditions, Caelin was simply teetering on the edge of insanity because of the stress placed on her. One wrong word, one slip of magic and the entire plan would fall into ruin and her life would be forfeit. The only reason she hadn't already driven herself mad was Baron's nightly reports on the city and Liam's progress. As it turned out, he had amassed a group of fifteen healthy young men that were willing to help them escape the city once Caelin had removed all of the spells on the children, and more were joining with him every day. Of course, that also meant that Caelin constantly worried about Liam as well, because the more people that learned of their plans, the greater the chances were that he would be caught. That was the one thing Caelin knew she would never be able to stand.

            "You four are in the kitchens today, you four are in the stables, and you two are cleaning rooms again today." Caelin was drawn back to reality as the dour guard delivered their daily assignments, pointing to Caelin and a girl of twelve for the last assignment. Caelin was glad of her assignment; she was never any good at cooking, working in the stables was too energy sapping, and she had excellent cleaning skills from her long ago days as a maid in the Harowyn household. She gave a quick sympathetic smile to Quinn and Hess, both of who had drawn stable duty, before she hurried off with the other girl. The one advantage to supposedly having all magic sapped from the children was that they were given free rein of the castle while they were doing their assigned chores.

            Caelin automatically started the laborious climb up the winding staircases of the school to the top floor, where all of the old instructor's chambers had been lavishly re-furnished into suitable accommodations for the various Islander nobles. It was an extreme privilege to be allowed into the nobles' rooms, one Caelin had received for her exemplary behavior and excellent housekeeping skills. Also, Caelin expected, because Lord Damian was tapping directly into her Gift and wanted her to last as long as possible.

            Caelin immediately grabbed cleaning supplies from the closet at the end of the hall and entered the first room and started cleaning. There was a man lounging in a richly padded chair by the window, but he offered no more than a passing glance before returning his gaze to the book he was reading. It was a typical response: most of the nobles, and all of the mages, acted as if the children were completely invisible.

Caelin finished his room and moved onto the next, falling into a mechanical pattern. Several hours passed before Caelin finally made it to the very last room on the right. She entered without her usual quiet care, expecting it to be empty since she had never seen a hair of the person who occupied it since she had started cleaning the rooms. Caelin froze in astonishment as the door banged shut and the black-haired lady sitting on the bed, occupied with needlework, looked up and met Caelin's eyes with a pair of very familiar, emerald green ones.

            Caelin gaped and couldn't quite believe what she was seeing as she stared at the beautiful woman. "Lianne? Oh thank the Goddess it's you! You have no idea how worried about you we've been. It's me, Caelin," she added as Lianne's eyes narrowed in confusion. It was no wonder, considering the state of her appearance. Even she probably wouldn't recognize herself if she looked in a mirror.

            Despite Caelin's reassurance, Lianne lifted her head in a motion that reminded Caelin of the haughty Islander princesses and spoke regally, "I'm sure I have no idea who you are, but you certainly have mistaken me. My name is Lady Irena of Manchu, niece to the king of the Copper Isles himself, and you have overstepped your bounds."


	12. The Battle

**Chapter Eleven: The Battle**

            Liam groaned and fell onto his bed limply, feeling as if he had been trampled by a herd of wild horses. Who knew that training fifteen men to fight could be so grueling? For the first time, Liam felt a twinge of guilt for all the trouble he, Aremin, and Orrin had caused their training master, Lord haMinch. Despite the fact that he was in top physical condition and had been trained by far harder taskmasters than he himself was, Liam couldn't remember ever being so exhausted. Perhaps it was the fact that, for the first time, men's lives depended on the training and information he was imparting, and combined with the constant ache of worry for Caelin, he was exhausted mentally as well as physically.

            It had been five demanding, arduous, and stress-filled weeks since he had first set foot inside the city. Despite Baron's reassurances that he, at least, would know if the Islanders had reached Corus, Liam couldn't help but wonder about the fate of his family and friends. In the instance of a battle, his father, mother, and friends would all be at the front lines. It simply wasn't in them to let others fight their battles. And even if the Islanders were taking their time moving through Tortall, sacking villages and plundering from the Tortallan people, it wouldn't be long before the war would begin.

Liam's thoughts strayed once again to the school. When Baron, his usual sarcastic tone muted, had passed on Caelin's message that Lianne was a willing captive with apparently no memory of who she really was, what had previously been anger, worry, and a righteous desire to do what was right transformed into a burning rage. Lianne had been his constant companion and childhood friend from the very beginning, the only sibling who was close enough in age for him to really connect with. There was no way he could leave her in the hands of her abductors, even if she had been brainwashed to believe she belonged with them. As soon as Baron transmitted Caelin's signal and he led the men to the school, while they helped Caelin with the children, he would slip into the school, hopefully unnoticed, and find his sister.

            A knock sounded briskly through the air, and Liam walked wearily over to the door and opened it. Erik smiled, walked into the room, and sat down in one of the chairs facing Liam's bed. "The men are at their respective homes now, but they're all ready to move if the signal comes tonight. Of course, they're all rather tired from the workout you gave them," he added with a laugh. "The streets are quiet, and nobody seems to have a clue that anything might happen." He paused, and a hint of anxiety crept into his voice. "Do you think it will come tonight?"

"I have no idea," Liam answered honestly, moving to sit back down on his rumpled bed. "Baron said Caelin seemed pretty sure that it would be tonight, but he said that last week as well. It has to be soon though, or it'll be too late. We can only hide our activities for so long, and I'm worried that Caelin won't be able to keep up all the magic she's doing. She isn't invincible, no matter what she seems to think." Liam tried hard to keep his voice calm and impersonal, but he could tell that Erik was not fooled in the least.

            "Tell me about her," he requested, settling down in his seat. "It's not as if we have anything better to do tonight. It'll keep both of us from worrying."

"What is there to say about Caelin? I've never met anybody like her before...aside from my sisters, my mother, and Sirs Alanna and Keladry, I haven't really been in contact with strong woman. All the court ladies are empty-headed and vacuous. Even though women are beginning to take more prominent roles in our society, women with sense and strength are still pretty rare. I was beginning to worry that I would never meet a woman that was interesting and wasn't related to me. Then Caelin came," Liam began with a wistful smile as he described Caelin's history, their rather ignominious first meeting, and everything that had happened since. "I just wish that we could have some kind of future together, but it's completely impossible. She has to continue her studies, and my father expects that I'll submit to an alliance marriage." He sighed, having not wanted to bring the subject up, and decided to turn the conversation in another direction. "So what about you, Erik? I don't know much about your history at all."

"There isn't much to tell," he replied with a self-deprecating shrug. "I lived with my parents and my brother until I was twelve, then I was apprenticed to my uncle. He was the best blacksmith in the entire city, and a good man. Emmet joined me there when he turned twelve. I was just about to try and make Master blacksmith when the Islanders attacked. My parents were killed in their house, and when my uncle refused to let the Islanders use his shop as a base, they killed him and burned the shop to the ground. I was out with Emmet at the time because it was our day off. By the time we made it back, there were only ashes left. I've been working odd jobs around the city to keep Emmet fed, and of course meeting with people that were similarly inclined to resist the incursion." Erik's voice was carefully light during the recitation, but Liam could easily see that speaking about the past was difficult for the blond man.

            "Well, maybe you can find a job in Corus once all this is over. A well-trained blacksmith is always in high demand. I'll even give you money if you want to start your own shop up with Emmet."

            "I don't take charity money," Erik snapped back, showing a hint of temper for the first time.

            "It won't be charity, it will be for services rendered. If we succeed in the plan, it will only be because of your help. And don't try to argue," Liam added, interpreting the look on Erik's face as imminent refusal, "because it's a lost cause."

            There was an awkward silence after Liam's statement that seemed to fill every nook and cranny in the room until, out of nowhere, Baron's voice boomed into both their minds, _It's time. She's already started to work on the door. Hurry!_

"It's time." Caelin's voice rolled around the room like pealing thunder, capturing the mind of every child and, with a little magical amplification, waking Baron up from his late night doze. Caelin was aware of nearly fifty faces turned towards her own with looks of mingled fear and anticipation. Quinn and Hess stood slightly behind her like guards flanking an ancient hero. The oldest children, and those that Caelin knew had the most talent, took their places to the forefront of the room with little hesitation, following Caelin's carefully laid instructions. The rest of the children gathered in the center of the room and stood close together. If the plan didn't succeed, the children would have a better chance of survival if they worked together than if they panicked and scattered.

            Satisfied that the children were ready, Caelin turned her full attention to the door and the multi-faceted shield that rippled ominously around it. For the past week, Caelin had done nothing but study the shield and search for weaknesses. To be perfectly honest, it didn't have any apparent weaknesses: it was a masterpiece of shielding work designed by a Master mage and strengthened by stolen power from fifty children. But, taking into account that every shield had weaknesses, even the most carefully crafted ones, Caelin had finally decided that it was time to take the risk of pulling it down.

            Caelin walked forward until she was merely an arms length away from the glittering, semi-opaque shield. She knew that all eyes were upon her as she gathered her power reserves. Thinking back to her lessons with Numair, she knew that the only way to overcome the shield was to tap into that dangerous level of magic that would allow her to call lightning, or to destroy soldiers with a single thought. The usual inhibition was there, the image of men blackened and mutilated, red-hot metal from melted weapons bubbling around them. For one moment, Caelin felt a sick dread and knew that she couldn't get past the self-imposed blocks around her power. Then a second series of images replaced the first, ones that instilled an even deeper sense of horror, and the motivation to draw on the full extent of her power.

She saw Numair and Daine fighting together desperately against Islander mages fueled by forbidden power. She saw the children she had lived with for the past five weeks dying slowly, accusation rampant in their eyes. She saw Liam and his friends fighting desperately in the city against an army of soldiers. She saw Baron shot down from the sky by a bolt of lightning, plucked, and thrown into a garbage heap, no longer proud and free. She saw Lianne as a forbidding and dark queen, ruling over a land she no longer loved, every memory from her old life scattered to the winds. And she saw herself, bereft of all her friends, living away her life as a captive and a slave, the catalyst that set forth the destruction of her beloved home and everything she held dear. 

            No. It would not happen while Caelin still had breath in her body to fight back. With a cry that set the nerves of every child on edge, Caelin reached with magical hands and seized the wellspring of blue power that pooled gently in the center of her body. With a derisive laugh, she severed the tie that connected her to Lord Damian and thrust her power, in the form of supernatural lighting, directly at the barrier. The first shot, which connected directly with the center of the shield, shattered into a million tiny pieces and scattered around the room. Caelin scowled and concentrated on the magical makeup of the shield.

            Yes! She could see the seams where the shield was woven together; they were barely visible to her magical senses, but now that she had seen them, they seemed to stand out in ugly black lines. Triumphantly, Caelin concentrated her fire on those seams, knowing that if they broke, the rest of the shield would break up easily. She did not feel the weeks of hunger and hard labor, or the strain she had placed on her magic by helping the children. She was lost in the ecstasy of power and magic of a level that few ever ventured into, and even fewer ever recovered from.

A swirling blue tornado ate away at the weak spots at the bottom of the shield, blue lightning continued to pound into the seams holding it together, and a supernatural bird with an uncanny likeness to Baron viciously attacked the top portion of the shield with claw, beak, and gigantic beating wings. The shield shook under the onslaught, and that first sign of weakness spurred Caelin to new heights. She was aware that somebody was laughing, high and clear peals of mirth that had an edge of insanity to them. Again the shield shuddered, and the first of the ties that held it together snapped, followed by a second and a third in rapid succession.

            The image of Liam falling to an onslaught of swords, terror in his eyes, was the only figure Caelin could see as she gathered her power one last time and flung it at the shield. There was a creaking and a groaning that seemed to shake the entire school, and then the shield disintegrated into leys of scattered power. Most of these power lines fled into their original sources, the children, and the room was filled with gasps as the recipients regained the essential parts of themselves that had been stolen. The rest of the power lines, all a hideous black, fled down the hall and absolutely reeked of Lord Damian.

            Caelin's knees shook and she would have collapsed if Hess and Quinn hadn't stepped forward and offered their support. As it was, she felt as if her body was screaming in pain, and she knew that she was dangerously close to exhausting all of her power. Still, they were nowhere near finished. Shaking off the helpful hands, Caelin stood on her own and looked towards the children, who were now all standing taller, but looking at her with expressions of fear, excitement, and worship. They didn't know whether to regard her as their savior, or a dangerous creature filled with uncanny power that would destroy them as soon as it saved them.

"The shield is down," she croaked, wondering why her voice felt like she had been screaming it raw. "No doubt the mages already know, and will be coming to investigate soon. Remember the spells I've taught you in the past few weeks: aim to disable, not to kill, and no heroics. We need to escape, not reap vengeance." _But I want vengeance_, a tiny voice screamed. _They all deserve to die! All you need to do is take your power-you still have plenty-and kill!_ "My friends should be fighting their way in as we speak with horses and supplies. We will take the back passages and make our way as quickly as we can to the side entrance of the school. It is the least heavily guarded, and that's where my friends are. If you get separated from the group, remember what I have taught you and try to get to the side gate. We will wait as long as we can for stragglers. Goddess and Mithros bless you all."

            The first sounds of confusion and of armor hastily pulled on could be heard in the hallway. Caelin's selected helpers arrayed themselves in a loose line behind her, muscles tensed for action. The first arrivals stared in horror at the children and the destroyed shield. It was a motley group of late-night guards and low-level mages that generally patrolled the halls at this hour. Like one well-oiled machine, Caelin and the children hit their stunned opponents with a variety of spells: spells to cause sleep, spells that brought on laughing fits, spells that caused the victim to move as if through molasses. With a smirk of approval, Caelin led the entire group past the disabled assailants and down a small side hall that would lead them, in a roundabout way, to the side gate. It would take longer, but fewer mages and soldiers would be able to fit into the hall and harass them that way. Caelin knew that some of the children were sobbing in fear and mental exhaustion, but she couldn't stop to check on them.

A well-timed spell from Hess took out the first guard on patrol they met before he could utter so much as a warning cry. Caelin had worked, in that last tense week, several silencing spells that clung to the group and would muffle any sounds of strife from their flight. Still, it was only a matter of time before Damian and the other powerful mages realized that their source of power was gone. Quinn and Alin, the oldest boy, a tall sandy-haired fellow with a rapier wit, took out the next group of guards and mages they met. Caelin offered them both a tense smile as she continued to lead the way. Even though she had thoroughly explored these back hallways when she could get away for a time, they were still unfamiliar, and had the annoying tendency to all look exactly the same. Every once in a while she cast a directional spell to ensure that they were heading to the western side of the school.

            They were halfway to their target when the first group of the powerful mages caught up to them. One lassoed a child that had fallen behind and dragged her back, wailing in terror as he stripped her completely of magical power and left her to gasp out her life on the cold flagstones. Somewhere deep inside Caelin was weeping as she mustered her warriors and went to meet the threat. Simple distraction spells would not defeat these mages, as Caelin knew, and hoped that her helpers knew as well. Hess was the first to engage with one of the mages, and he was wielding light green lightning as if he had always done so. Caelin turned her attention to the mage with the most power and sent an eager tornado at him. He banished it with a flick of his hand and smiled arrogantly at her as he sent a storm of magical bees designed to break her concentration with their stinging bites. These vanished when they hit her own defenses, and she smirked right back, and before he could recover from his surprise that the attack failed, uttered a word of power that Numair had only spoke of once, and then laughed as the stunned mage turned into a stringy, unhappy looking oak tree. Somewhere, a disapproving voice kept repeating that she shouldn't use words of power, because they always had an unexpected effect somewhere else in the world, but Caelin had no time to listen to it.

She realized that the rest of the mages had been taken care of and continued to lead the group forward. This time their flight was successful, and they reached the side gate, which was manned by ten bored looking guards. Caelin, Hess, Quinn, and Alin easily took care of them, and for the first time Caelin felt a leap of hope. Now all they needed to do was make their way through the courtyard and to the gate surrounding the school, where hopefully Liam and the other men would be waiting with the horses. The first sight that met Caelin's eyes was Baron, flying in great circles in the night air. Caelin led the group quickly in the direction Baron was headed. About fifty feet from the gate, she could see that the rest of the Islander guards had been alerted and were concentrating on a group of a dozen young men wielding a variety of weapons. Caelin strained her eyes, trying to find Liam, but in the confusion and darkness it was impossibly to tell.

            "So, it seems the young street rat is not all that she pretended to be." Lord Damian's voice was smooth and delightful, a knife that cut through the air and plunged directly into Caelin's chest. He appeared from nowhere, flanked by almost twenty mages. "I wondered who was meddling with my draining spells, but I incorrectly assumed that they were just in need of replacement. I had other situations to deal with, including the sacking of your capital city. They never knew what was coming, I assure you. There really is nothing left to fight for. You might as well give up. I will spare your life; it would not due to kill such an intelligent and promising mage. I will train you myself, and you shall have a position of power in the new court. All you need to do is surrender."

            For one terrifying moment, Caelin felt herself considering the option of surrender. Had it all been for nothing? Was Tortall already lost?

_He lies_. Baron's comforting voice disrupted Damian's own melodic influence and sent a rush of strength and warmth through Caelin's limbs. Not for the first time, Caelin wondered about the magical powers of the phoenix. _I would know if the capital had fallen. It is given to my kind the knowledge of magic and what is hidden to the mortal eye. All is not lost. Now you must fight, for your own kind and the safety of all beings that live in peace within the kingdom. Fight._

            Caelin stared at Lord Damian, who was watching her with a cocky expression on his nearly perfect face, acting as if her response was assured. Drawing herself tall and proud, aware of the anxious faces behind her, watching and waiting, Caelin smirked and replied, "You know, Lord Damian, what they say about those that 'assume' anything. And you, my friend, are the biggest ass I know."

            "So be it," the mage answered in a tone that seemed almost regretful. "It ends here."

Liam crouched in the shadow of the wall and watched with anxiety as his men engaged the many guards that were streaming from all corners of the school. They couldn't hold the gates open forever, and there was still no sign of Caelin and the children. Then, with a dawning hope, Liam watched as Caelin appeared at the far doorway, glowing a pale blue from extended use of the Gift. She was thin and emaciated from five weeks of starvation, but to his eyes, still as beautiful and strong as ever. It took every inch of willpower he possessed not to rush over and protect her from all comers. Even more astonishing was the fact that there were still nearly fifty children with her. Had she managed to save them all?

            They started the long walk across the grounds towards the gate, and were nearly there when suddenly, with no warning, a group of vicious looking mages appeared out of nowhere. Liam cursed silently as the leader spoke with Caelin. For one moment it looked as if she would falter, and then a new strength seemed to flood through her and she replied scathingly to the mage. The two groups engaged in fierce battle, Caelin fighting with the other mage and the rest of the children ganging up in groups of twos and threes against the other mages. Liam knew that the mage Caelin was fighting was strong, powerful, and with a Gift that was strong and un-weakened by starvation and prolonged use.

            Still, Liam had no choice but to turn away from the fiercely raging battle and slip unnoticed across the grounds and into the school. He had another mission to complete. Liam walked carefully through the dimly lit halls, sometimes stopping in amazement to see the guards and mages that had already fallen to the children. He could tell the ones that Caelin had taken care of, because they still glowed faintly blue in the dark. At one of these groups, he regarded a small, crumpled body with sorrow. So Caelin had lost one of her charges.

Liam angrily turned away from the dreadful scene and took the nearest set of stairs by twos. He knew, from Baron, that Caelin had found Lianne in the last room to the left on the fourth floor. The school was deserted, all soldiers and mages having been called to the battle raging at the western gate. When Liam reached the fourth floor, he practically flew down the hall with his long legs and pulled up to the door. He tried it half-heartedly, hoping that it wasn't locked, but it refused to open. Luckily, Liam had come prepared, and he took out an old key ring that was arrayed not with keys but with strips of metal of varying thickness, length, and strength. After regarding the lock for at most a minute, Liam selected a strip of medium length that was little thicker than a needle, but made of the strongest metal that could be found in all of Tortall. It was only the work of a few seconds, and not for the first time, Liam thanked the Crooked God that he was on close speaking terms with the former leader of the Rogue.

            As soon as the lock's tumblers slid into place, Liam swung open the door and felt his heart leap with uncontained joy as his eyes lit upon the slim, dark haired girl sitting in the corner. She turned with surprise, and then relief flooded through her eyes. "At last, someone is here to explain what's happening! My guard left an hour ago without a word and there are all sorts of lights flashing on the grounds. What is happening? Are you here to protect me?" Lianne's voice was still the same, but she spoke with a breathless and flighty manner that was completely wrong, and Liam had never seen his sister bat an eye in the face of danger.

            "Lianne, don't you recognize me?" He questioned hopelessly, having hoped that perhaps Caelin's efforts with the mages would have broken the spells on Lianne as well.

            "Why does everybody keep calling me that?" His sister wailed, looking genuinely confused and terrified. "My name is Irena of Manchu, and I certainly don't recognize you. Actually, you look nothing like my normal guards. Who are you? I demand you explain yourself at once."

            "I'm your brother and..."

            "I don't have a brother!"

            "You only think you don't have a brother," Liam corrected her. "But you are my sister, Lianne of Conte, and a princess of Tortall. The Islanders kidnapped you several months ago and they have brainwashed you. I assure you, you are my sister."

            "No," Lianne snapped, suddenly seeming for all the world like any of the noble ladies Liam hated. "My family is of ancient Copper Isle blood, and our descendents go back a thousand years. I am the only daughter of the king's brother, and I am his favored niece. I am to marry the king's son and heir within the year, and I will become Queen of the Copper Isles, and," she added maliciously, "of Tortall. Whoever you are, I demand that you desist with your lies at once and leave immediately."

            Liam sighed, but his nerves were stretched taught and he didn't have time to try and convince his sister of her true identity. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. You have to come with me."

            Lianne screeched in terror as Liam advanced on her, and she beat at him helplessly with her tiny fists as he swept her off her feet and out the door of her room, not even needing two hands to carry her. The other rested on his sword, and he resisted the urge to whack his beloved sister with the flat end as she screeched lividly at him and cursed him with every foul word she knew. If only she knew what she was saying, she would certainly realize that she couldn't be from the Copper Isles, because all of the best curses she used were Tortallan.

Luckily for Liam, and unluckily for his friends fighting at the gate, Liam didn't encounter a single guard or mage on his way out of the school. With Lianne screaming the whole way, Liam made his way through the back passages and then out the gate he had entered. He could tell that at least some of his men had survived and were still fighting at the gate, and most of the mage lights had disappeared. Actually, all had died out except two: dark black that could be seen even in the darkness of the night, and brilliant blue that was as familiar to him as if it was his own.

            Liam started running to the scene, no longer aware of his sister, his eyes trained on a single small form.

            Caelin was aware, in a vague sense, that she was tired. She knew, theoretically, that her limbs were trembling, sweat was dripping down her face and the back of her neck irritatingly, and it mingled with sluggishly flowing blood from a wound on her left arm and a gash on her leg. She also supposedly knew that the children had defeated the other mages, although not without loss from their side, and that the men at the gate were holding their own, and even pushing back the Islander guards. The battle was going their way. Caelin knew all of this, in some small part of her mind. The rest, however, was concentrating completely on Lord Damian.

            He was more powerful than Caelin had every suspected. After their brief verbal skirmish, Caelin had struck the first blow, relying childishly on the lightning that had worked so well against the other mages. It hadn't even reached Lord Damian; he had dismissed it with a disdainful wave of his aristocratic hand. Before Caelin could recover her wits, the mage had returned with his own wave of black lightning. Caelin's shields mostly deflected it, but one part wormed its way through and struck her leg, drawing an involuntary cry from Caelin as she felt her skin char, and a calm smile from Lord Damian.

            That wakeup call succeeded in capturing Caelin's complete attention, and that annoying voice in her head laughed scornfully as she carefully re-formed her shields and counterattacked with a spell she had only read about, but never tried, which bubbled around Damian and sucked all the air away. Caelin smiled in satisfaction for about five seconds as the mage choked and sputtered, before he succeeded in banishing it. The color hadn't even returned to his face before he sent a magical serpent across the grass, at least ten feet in length and hissing with venom as it headed directly towards her. For a moment Caelin panicked, and then she belatedly realized that it was an illusion as Damian's real attack, one that caused the very ground around her to tremor and buck, almost succeeded in sucking her into the earth.

            Caelin succeeded in calming the ground and tried another spell, this one designed to act like her previous tornadoes, except with one important difference: it was twenty feet tall. For one moment, Caelin rejoiced to see fear in Damian's eyes as the tornado bravely attacked his shields. It ate away the outer layer before Damian destroyed it. He was now turning a lovely purple shade of rage, which succeeded in ruining his perfect visage, and he attacked with vigor now, sending a dozen black knives towards her along with his own shield-destroying tornado. Caelin blocked the tornado, and most of the knives, but one made it through and hit her left arm with a sickening thud. Caelin could feel the spurt of blood from the wound and swayed violently before trying to use the same word of power she had before. This time, Damian grew roots for half a second before they disappeared, and Caelin knew then that she was at the end of her power reserves. A quick glance inside with magical sight revealed an empty pool with only a trace of dim blue fire left. Her shields flickered in and out of sight, and Caelin could see triumph visible in Damian's eyes as he slowly stalked over to her.

            A furious yell rose out of the deafening silence and Caelin turned in horror, feeling as if the world was in slow motion, as a tiny blond bundle hurtled towards Lord Damian, green lightning streaming from his hands. Caelin was again aware of that distant screaming, and knew that it was her own voice, as Hess threw himself completely against Lord Damian. Despite his lack of training, Hess had eaten away at several layers of shields before Damian realized that someone else was attacking him, and with cold fury, waved a hand at Hess. A bolt of black lightning struck Hess in the chest; he faltered and his eyes, usually so brilliant and defiant, clouded over in confusion as he slipped to the ground.

Behind her, Caelin heard Quinn sob and Arin curse in anger. Before she could prevent them, two of the other older students also flung themselves at Damian. They were less successful than Hess, despite their advanced age, because Damian was wary now. They had barely let their original spells fly before Damian counter attacked and they fell as well. Caelin knew that the children would keep attacking down to the very last, and could feel Quinn and Arin gathering their own power.

            "No!" She screamed angrily, using the last bit of her power to prevent the other children from sacrificing themselves. "You have no chance against him. Try and make for the gate-now!"

            She could feel Quinn and Arin's indecision, but eventually they rallied the children and started moving towards the gate. The waiting young men went forward and helped the children. Damian watched this development with what looked like amusement. "Do you really think they have any chance of escape?" he asked conversationally. "You have no power or strength left, and are hardly an obstacle. The men you have killed? They are but a fraction of those at my beck and call in the city. They won't even make it to the outer gates before they are dragged back. The children will remain in captivity, and the men will be executed in front of the entire city. All of your efforts have been for nothing, and you have given many of these innocent children painful deaths that could have been staved off for years. That blond boy over there," he motioned with a wave of his be-ringed hand, "would have been a most powerful mage. Now he is dead, and it is your fault. You, who thought you could take on the greatest mage in the world."

            "You aren't the greatest mage in the world," Caelin croaked. "My teacher Numair is the most powerful mage."

"And where is he now?" Damian questioned. "He is not here, your friends have abandoned you, and now you will die. I would have helped you, but you chose to fight, and now you pay the price."

            A great wave of magic started forming around Damian, and Caelin knew sickeningly that this was the end. She had no reserves, no shields, nothing. She was going to die, and the entire effort was going to fail.

            Suddenly, a screech split the sky, and from the air, a burning form shot straight at Damian. It was Baron, and he no longer looked like a typical hawk with a few discolored wings. He was not only covered in flames, but he was the fire, and Caelin suddenly recalled all of the legends of phoenixes, and how they were born in fire, lived with fire inside, and died in fire. Baron hit Damian's shields in a blaze of light that made the area around the school seem as if it were day. Damian's shields buckled and disappeared in a flash of smoke, and he staggered, but remained standing.

            Caelin's voice gave out, but her mind and soul screamed as the bond she shared with the brave phoenix severed. Anger and despair beat out all rationality, and Caelin did something Numair and her other teachers had always cautioned against. She turned to herself and took every bit of magic she could find, drawing from the life force that flickered and danced inside her, and formed a great blue sword that continued to light the sky that had been illuminated by Baron's sacrifice. The sword flew directly towards Lord Damian and buried into his chest all the way to the hilt, lighting the mage with blue witch fire. The magical swords solidified upon contact, and blood spurted in a great rush from the lord's chest. Caelin watched as her opponent crumpled to the ground and lay still.

For a few brief seconds, Caelin swayed where she was standing, dimly aware that the last spell had tapped so deeply into her life force that it was draining with alarming speed. She took one halting step towards the now empty gate and fell to the ground.

Liam watched Caelin's battle with the mage from only twenty feet away, noticed by neither Caelin nor the enemy mage. He watched three of the students die, and then withheld a shout of horror as Baron plunged directly into the shields with a brilliant flash. He watched Caelin's final spell succeed in killing the mage. He watched as she screamed without a voice, and he watched as she fell to the ground. That succeeded in spurring Liam as he ran across the ground, not even registering Lianne's screams mingled with complaints and curses. He reached Caelin at the same time as Erik did, who had been watching from the gate.

            "Is that your sister?" Erik asked distractedly as he knelt over Caelin's still body. He had multiple wounds that were bleeding with varying intensity, but he didn't seem to be in any imminent danger.

            "Yes," Liam answered in the same kind of distant tone. "Is she all right?" he demanded, fear coursing its way through his veins. It was the same kind of icy dread he felt whenever his parents were at war, and when Caelin and Lianne had been kidnapped.

            Erik shook his head unhappily. "I don't think so. I'm no healer, but I can tell she's lost a lot of blood, and she obviously has no magic left. Her pulse is weak...I don't think she's going to make it through the grueling ride we're going to have to take if we want to make it out of here."

            "No," Liam snapped, not willing to listen to his words. "There has to be another way." He paused, and his eyes, now nearly black with worry, lit upon his sister, who was cowering in the grass. "Lianne! You're a healer, you can help her!"

            "My name is not Lianne!" she wailed in hopeless fear and anger. "I am certainly not a healer, that's for commoners, and I wouldn't help her even if I could! This is the dirty and disgusting slave that called me Lianne in the first place. Acted as if I should know someone like her."

Somewhere Liam was aware that if he had been in his right mind, he never would have done what he did then. With a roar that, although he didn't know, sounded just like the Dragon he was named after, Liam picked up his sword and held it with a trembling hand against Lianne's delicate neck. "Make no mistake, Irene of Manchuria or what in gods name you want to call yourself, you are a healer, and if you don't heal her right now, I will kill you."

            Lianne squeaked in terror and rushed over to Caelin's side. Her eyes were closed and her pale face was covered in bruises and dirt. Trembling, Lianne placed her hands over the girl. For several minutes, nothing happened, because Irena of Manchu really had no idea how to go about healing a person. Somehow, though, the need for healing pulled the power buried in Lianne out in a stream of bright green light, and suddenly a flood of color rushed into Caelin's cheeks. Liam placed a hand gently on Caelin's neck and felt her pulse steady and strengthen. It was still too weak to really comfort him, but for the first time, Liam allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope.

            "Good," he said roughly to contain the emotion he was feeling. "Erik, are the kids all ready to go?"

            "They've probably already reached the gates and left the city, as long as they could fight their way through. We're going to have to hurry to catch them." As he said this, he reached out an arm and grabbed Lianne, who had been sneaking back towards the castle. "Not so fast, miss," he said dryly. "You're coming with me."

            "How many horses do we have left?" Liam asked as they made their way to the gate, Liam carrying Caelin, who weighed next to nothing, and Erik dragging Lianne none too gently.

            "We've two left."

"All right," Liam answered with a sigh. "Let's get out of this forsaken city. We're going home."  


End file.
